Desperation
by TimeGuardian
Summary: Desperation leads the Hardys into a showdown with a criminal who escaped federal custody, but the encounter may prove fatal unless Frank and Joe come up with a plan...
1. Chapter 1

_**Desperation  
**_A Hardy Boys Fanfic  
by Time Guardian

Summary: Desperation leads the Hardys into a showdown with a criminal who escaped federal custody - a criminal that Frank and Joe helped to put away.

It was a bright sunny day when seventeen year old Joe Hardy came home early from Bayport high school. Normally, he would be at school for an extra hour or so, going through the rigors of baseball practice, but after promising the coach that he would run twice the normal amount of laps during the next practice, he was granted time off.

Joe stepped inside his house, running a hand through his blond hair and welcoming the cooling effects of the air conditioning. He noted with a smile the red and blue streamers and large poster sign that hung in the living room that proclaimed 'Happy Birthday Frank'.

Ever since they had entered high school, Joe had been determined to find a way to get one over on Frank. For the past few years on Joe's birthday, Frank had found ways to surprise him, everything from dinner out with their girlfriends to scuba diving trips off the coast of flordia.

Well this year, he had a surprise party planned that Frank would never forget.

He heard a voice call out from the kitchen. "Joe is that you?"

Joe dumped the schoolbooks he had into a living room chair, then stepped into the kitchen. He saw that his father was prepping various cuts of meat to be placed on the grill.

"Hey dad, the food looks good. Frank call in yet?"

Fenton Hardy turned around, dressed in a red polo shirt and jeans along with an apron that proudly proclaimed 'Grillmatser'. "No, but Chet did. He talked Frank into coming home with him after school for the duration for a birthday celebration of their own, so we have plenty of time. Your mother is in town with Aunt Gertude picking up a cake now."

Joe grinned. "Great. This plan is going to go off like clockwork! All I need to do now is go pick up Frank's present from Mr. Moneyhan at the jewelry shop and we will be set."

As he walked out of the kitchen, his father called out. "Chet should be bringing Frank home in about two hours, so you better hurry."

Joe rushed upstairs, showered and quickly changed into a black shirt and jeans. He then headed out of the house.

* * *

Mr. Moneyhan's Jewelry and Engraving was located in an older part of Bayport's downtown district, where the city council had declared that the buildings were to be restored to their original condition from when the area was first constructed many years ago. There had been some rumbling to shrink the size of some of the buildings to allow emergency workers proper access to the backs of the stores, but so far all they had managed to do was plant various flowers and powerwash the sidewalks once a month. 

Joe found a parking space a few yards away, and parked the van. He grabbed for a claim ticket that he had stashed under the drivers side visor, then quickly got out.

It had taken him the better part of a month, but Joe managed to track down the same style pocket watch that Frank had eyed during a case in England. It had reminded him of Victorian times, he had said.

Mr. Moneyhan was supposed to be adding an inscription hat he thought up personally. - _Won't Frank be surprised_.-

He walked inside the small shop, and looked around at the various offering of jewelry, watches and other things that could be engraved. Mr. Moneyhan always prided himself on a variety of offerings, and judging by the young couple oggling the rings in the front case, it looked like he would be selling a ring today.

Joe found the old man at the front counter. "Hi, Mr. Moneyhan. Got Frank's watch ready yet?"

The old man was in his sixties with snow white hair, and he wore a simple white shirt with black pants. He grinned at Joe. "I'm almost finished. Why don't you look around for a few minutes? Maybe your girlfriend needs a pretty new bauble, yes?"

He couldn't help but laugh. Mr. Moneyhan was a true romantic at heart. Joe walked around the shop, and chose to look at a small collection of swiss army knives that Mr. Money had in a locked glass case on the wall. Judging by the different designs, it looked like almost anything could be engraved on them.

As he stood there, Joe caught sight of a security guard in the reflection of the glass case. It was Mr. Moneyhan's normal procedure to have a security guard stand watch over his store since he was busy engraving most of the time.

Something didn't seem right about this security guard though.

He seemed to be tall, lean, and well tanned. The guard's red hair was close-cropped, but the scraggly beard totally rang alarm bells in his head. Something was familiar about this guy, he was sure of it.

The guard in turn glared at him like he was the lowest scum on Earth. Joe shuddered, then did his best to turn away. The look that guard had in his eyes, it was almost reminded him of soneone who was downright homicidal and - _oh no_ -.

He remembered only one other time that someone had given him a look as unnerving as that. Joe put two and twotogether and slowly realized who the security guard really was. -_Ansem Jamison_-

He tamped down the urge to panic. By all rights, the man should be in Federal prison, awaiting trial. The man had been a stock trader who had lost his shirt in the recent wall street losses, and by all indications the event had caused him to go insane.

Ansem had tried to borrow money from his brother that lived in bayport, and when he refused, Ansem shot and killed him, then went and robbed a bank, kidnapping and killing a guard in the process. It had taken him and Frank nearly two months of undercover work to track Ansem down to a seedy apartment complex just outside of Bayport. The last time he had seen the man, two federal officals were escorting him out of the police station in a straight jacket.

Judging by the glance Ansem just gave him however, Joe knew that the man had recognized him.

He hated to leave Mr. Moneyhan with Ansem, but the quicker he could summon help, the better. The problem was, he left his cell phone in the van. "Hey, Mr. Moneyhan, can I use your phone?"

"Over in the corner, Joe," Mr. Moneyhan called out, "I'm almost finished engraving your brother's present."

Joe quietly nosed his way past an eager young couple checking out the engagement rings, and sought out the corner of the store that had a phone. The phone itself was on a small wooden bookshelf in the corner, but there seemed to be a bit of a gap inbetween the shelf and the corner itself, just big enough to allow him to be unseen by almost anyone else in the store.

After positioning himself in the niche, he dialed the police station and quickly reported the situation to the Sargeant on duty. After a promise of a quick reponse, Joe disconnected and quickly dialed home. When his father answered the phone he let out a pent up breath.

"Hey, dad, it's Joe. I'm still at the engravers and-"

A clicking noise interrupted him. Looking around, Joe realized his mistake. From his vantage, he saw that the couple that had been in the store was now outside and walking away. Standing in front of him was Ansem, and he was holding a revolver pointed directly at his head.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks for the kind reviews. I am hoping I am doing the series justice. I have been an action junkie all my life, and the original books plus the casefiles fuled that even more for me. :) Here is chapter 2..._

_**Desperation  
**_A Hardy Boys Fanfic  
by Time Guardian

Fenton had just taken the steaks off of the grill in the backyard when the phone rang. He rushed into the house and picked up the phone just a moment before the answering machine picked up. "Hello?"

He recognized his son's voice instantly. "Hey, dad, it's Joe. I'm still at the engraver's and-"

There was a pause. He thought that Joe may have hung up for a moment, until he came back on the line. Joe's voice then sounded strange, to the point of being strained.

"Tell Frank happy birthday, and tell him I will have to miss that meeting about mensa, and to mix it up. I'll be tied up for a while."

No doubt about it, something was wrong. Fenton gripped the receiver tightly - he didn't want to hang up, but if someone was forcing Joe to talk, then maybe he just passed on a message. "Sure son, take care."

As soon as his son hung up, Fenton dialed the Morton farm, and Chet answered the phone. "Chet, I need to speak with Frank ASAP. It's an emergency."

Chet gulped. "But the surprise party-"

Fenton cut him off quickly. "Is off. Please Chet, this is important."

He heard the clunk of the phone as Chet laid it down. Minutes later, he heard his son come on the line. "Dad, what's wrong?"

"Plenty." Fenton Hardy relayed Joe's plans and the message he had directed to Frank. "What did your brother mean?"

* * *

Eighteen year old Frank Hardy stood by the phone in the Morton kitchen, and a sinking feeling was beginning to form in the pit of his stomach. His father had just told him about the strange message that Joe left, and it worried him.

"It's an SOS. Joe and I came up with the code signal 'tied up' if either one of us was in major trouble, but that mensa crack-" Frank thought long and hard for a moment until a long ago memory sparked in his mind. "'Mix it up' at the end with the word mensa, and you get Ansem." The wheels in his mind quickly clicked on an answer and he didn't like the results. "Ansem Jamison. That was the guy Joe and I helped Chief Collig send up for Armed Robbery and murder not too long ago. I thought he was in jail awaiting trial."

His father sounded grim. "Call Chief Collig and find out. As soon as you find out anything, meet me at the Jewelry store."

Frank remembered their efforts to bring down Ansem. The man was deluded enough to believe that if he could make it to South America or the Caribbean, no one would be able to touch him. It had taken the two of them to take Ansem down in the first place, and now, Joe was facing this monster alone. "Count on it. I'll get a ride with Chet."

Frank hung up the phone, and went to find Chet. _-Some birthday this has turned out to be.- _

* * *

Joe steeled himself as he stared down Ansem. He figured playing dumb wasn't going to cut it in this case, but if it kept him talking- "Ansem, funny we should meet in a place like this."

Ansem's aim never wavered from Joe. "Well, well. Hardy boy number two has come to interfere with my plans."

"Hey, I'm here just picking up a birthday gift for my brother," Joe put up his arms in a gesture of surrender. "That's all, nothing more. It's none of my business what you do with your free time."

In the back of his mind, he could only imagine what Ansem had done with his free time. Now that he had more time to look, he realized that the guard outfit that Ansem was wearing didn't fit him. Joe hated to think how the man might have obtained his outfit.

The determined man didn't budge an inch. "On the contrary, if I walk out of here and leave you alive, you will tell people, just like last time. No. Now get out of that corner."

Ansem motioned him out with the gun. As he walked out of the corner towards the center of the store, Joe looked around and realized that he didn't see Mr. Moneyhan anywhere, and then remembered that the man kept most of his engraving tools in the back room. If he was still back there, then Joe realized that he still may have a chance out of this or at the least allow Mr. Moneyhan to escape.

Joe stopped dead center in the store, and turned around to face Ansem. He decided to drop all pretenses and fold his arms. He deliberately spoke in an overly loud voice. "You know Ansem? You got me. I came in here looking for you because I knew you wouldn't be here, probably funding some crazy scheme to get to the islands. Wasn't that what you were trying to do when Frank and I caught up to you the last time?"

For his efforts, Ansem seethed, his face turning almost as red as his hair was. "I will kill you!"

Joe tensed, noticing that Ansem's gun hand was wavering slightly. He might just get his chance yet. "I am not going to let you kill me, Ansem. In fact, I am going to put you back in prison where you belong."

* * *

In the back room, Mr. Moneyhan finished engraving the last of the inscription that Joe had ordered for the watch. He inwardly chuckled at the bad prose, but he supposed it was the sentiment that counted.

Suddenly, he heard Joe out in the front of the store talking loudly. "I am not going to let you kill me, Ansem. In fact, I am going to put you back in prison where you belong."

Prison? Mr. Moneyhan blanched. This replacement guard had come to him only a day ago with a phone call claiming that his regular guard was sick and to expect a replacement, so he did not question it when the replacement guard had arrived. However, he knew and trusted Joe - something was wrong.

As quietly as he could, Mr. Moneyhan inched towards the door leading to the front of his store. Since it was a swinging door, he was able to inch the door outward to peek in at what was happening.

* * *

Joe had his back to the front door. Only a few more feet, and they would be out of the store. He wasn't quite sure what he was going to do once he got to the door, but he was sure that he could think of something.

A movement from behind Ansem caught his attention. He saw that Mr. Moneyhan was peeking out from the back room, and then started creeping forward into the front of the store.

Joe shook his head in silent alarm. There would be no way that the old man could survive an encounter with this guy. He made a snap decision, and prayed he wasn't making a big mistake. "Mr. Moneyhan, RUN!"

When Ansem jerked his head around to look at what Joe was shouting at, the teen seized his chance.

With a yell, he pounced on the man, bowling him over. Joe grabbed for Ansem's arms, and did the best he could with his 6 foot frame to keep the man pinned. Ansem however, was proving to be a wily opponent - it was taking everything Joe had to keep the man down.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Mr. Moneyhan rush up. "Tell me how I can help!"

It was hard speaking through the exertion of keeping Ansem pinned. "Get out of here and get help. This guy is lethal."

"But-"

He couldn't make it any clearer. "Go!"

Joe felt a sense of relief as he heard the front door open quickly, and close just as quickly. At least someone was safe from this man.

Ansem wasn't amused in the least. "Boy, you are a wily one, but I keep my promises!"

With a burst of energy Joe wasn't expecting, Ansem rolled his legs upward and caught Joe squarely in the chest. With a cry, Joe was propelled backwards into one of the display cases.

The pain that shot through his left leg came first, then the pain that resounded through his head made his body shut down.

The last thing that Joe heard before the darkness took him was the sound of Ansem's laughter.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks for the reviews again. I had a little trouble deciding how crazy/ unpredictable to make my criminal, so I'll let you guys be the judge if it is too over the top or not enough. _

_In the meanwhile, please enjoy the next chapter. :)_

**Desperation  
**A Hardy Boys Fanfic  
by Time Guardian

Ansem scowled as he stood and walked over to Joe Hardy's unconscious body. The nuisance had been a thorn in his side before when he and his brother tricked him all those months ago. Now, he had the sweetest plan set to rob the jewelry store and use the proceeds to get himself to one of the Caribbean islands.

That was at least until the Hardy brat walked in on him.

Oh, he had no plans to go back to prison - he had survived those few months soley on his ingenuity, the connections he made while in there, and the money from his bank robbery. The feds had grilled him mercilessly about the location of his money, but Ansem sat back and kept his mouth shut. In that short amount of time that he robbed the Bayport savings vault of five hundred thousand dollars, he used his financial connections to launder the money through numerous off-shore banks. At last count, the authorities were still trying to figure out where the money was.

The money had come in handy also when he promised the prison shrink fifty thousand if she would get him out.

It had gone all wrong...but at least he had made it to safety.

Grinning, he grabbed Joe Hardy's arms and dragged him towards the backroom of the store. He had seen the arrival of two police cars moments earlier, and that meant there was little time before he would have to make his next move. He wanted to make sure he was ready.

* * *

Chet Morton had managed to reach the downtown area in ten minutes flat, parking behind the Hardy van. Shutting off the engine, he turned to his passenger. "We're here, Frank."

Frank Hardy sat in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead. His voice was monotone. "I'm turning nineteen tomorrow."

Chet stared at his friend in some shock. Frank hadn't said more than two words since they got into his car for the ride over. He knew little other than that Joe was in trouble, but the haunted look in Frank's eyes worried him. "Frank?"

Frank smiled weakly. "Dad told me. Joe thought it would be the greatest gag if they moved the family birthday celebration to the day before to throw me off since he knew we normally celebrated early at your house each year to begin with. He was here getting a gift for me."

Chet shook his head. This wasn't the Frank Hardy he knew. "Frank, snap out of it. There's no use in thinking

about what all bad that might be happening. We don't know the whole situation. Besides, you know Joe, he's probably in there knocking some heads around right now." He looked down the street and noted the two Bayport Police cruisers stationed across from the jewelry store. "We better go see if Chief Collig knows anything."

* * *

Frank took a breath - Chet was right. In their time chasing down criminals and bad guys, he and Joe faced numerous dangers, and nearly died more than once, but they had came out unscathed. He needed to have faith. "Thanks Chet. Let's go."

He got out and made a quick stop at the van before carefully making their way down the opposite side of the street until they reached an area cordoned off and guarded by the police. Both of them recognized the head officer guarding the area.

Frank called out to him. "Con!"

Con Reilly, a member of the Bayport force and friend to the Hardys, was doing his best to head off some curious onlookers and at least one member of the press. he looked up and saw Frank. He waved and motioned to one corner. "Frank! Chief's looking for you! This way!"

Frank and Chet followed his directions, and Con lifted the yellow tape up high enough for the boys to duck in under. A few feet away, they found Frank's father along with Chief Collig, bent over a series of blueprints.

His dad looked up, and their eyes met. "Frank."

He could see the tension in his father's eyes, and he knew the story wasn't good. "Dad, what happened?"

* * *

Fenton stood up and pointed to the jewelry store. "Ansem apparently was setting up the place to be robbed. From what Mr. Moneyhan could tell us, it was apparent that he recognized Joe, because he went after him quickly after he used the phone. During their scuffle, Mr. Moneyhan managed to escape."

The old man in question was leaning against the side of the building and gave them a weak smile. "I tried to help your brother, but he would have nothing of it." He looked back towards his store. "Problem is, I escaped close to twenty minutes ago, and he hasn't come out yet."

Fenton spoke up, motioning to the blueprints. "But Mr. Moneyhan did come through for us. Since these old buildings are situated so close together and are only one story structures, we could reach the roof of one building and jump over to the other."

Frank looked at the blueprints and noticed that except for a few minor details, each storefront was exactly the same. In each drawing, all had roof access through a ladder situated in the stores' back room. "That means someone can sneak in through an adjoining store, get Joe, and get out."

"Precisely why I vetoed the idea," Chief Collig declared, "We are following protocol on this one. This guy escaped federal custody and has a hostage. I've had the FBI on the horn and they will be here in twenty minutes, and I have some men stationed at the entrance's to the front of the store and the alleyways to the back of that block of stores."

Frank shook his head in frustration. "Chief, you know Ansem as well as I do. Do you seriously believe we have twenty minutes?"

Fenton looked at his friend, and noted that despite the question posed to him, Chief Collig chose at that point to stare towards the jewelry store. He knew protocol as well, but what he didn't know was how dangerous this guy was. Judging by the chief's reaction, he had plenty to worry about.

He then turned to Frank. "You two took on that case while I was on one of my own. You dealt with him, and I trust your judgment: How dangerous is he?"

His son didn't even have to think before he answered. "He is a loose canon, dad. When he thought he had lost everything the time we went after him, he struck back hard and maliciously. He is unpredictable and deadly."

* * *

Frank watched as his father turned the idea over in his mind before finally voicing an idea. "Chief, if I were to sneak in there while you distracted Ansem-"

Chief Collig protested. "I know you are worried about your son, Fenton, but you are not a cop anymore. I cannot sanction any action like this."

"It would be quicker and safer if one of us sneaks in to get Joe. That way you and the FBI would have free reign to take him down," Frank argued, "and I want to be the one to do it."

His father started to protest, but Frank held up his hand. "You said you trusted my judgment. Joe and I have dealt with this guy before, and we can do it again."

His father looked at him hard before giving a resigned sigh. "Chief, please-"

Chief Collig looked at Father and son in disbelief before finally sputtering. "For the record, I don't like this. Ok, one distraction coming up. You have twenty minutes, and then regardless of what's happening, we will storm the place. Are we clear?"

Frank nodded and checked his watch. "Yes sir." He turned to go when his father put his hand on his shoulder.

Turning, he saw that his father was extremely worried. "I do trust you, Frank, but no unnecessary heroics. Get your brother and get out of there safely, ok?"

He nodded once again. "I'll do my best."

Memories of his previous encounter with Ansem flooded his mind, and Frank did his best to banish them out of his mind. What mattered was the here and now. He walked past Chet, and his friend gave him a thumbs up sign.

Turning, Frank crept carefully along the perimeter of the street, and then dashed across until he reached the boutique next door to the jewelry store. He had managed to stay out of view of the jewelry store front window.

He waited with baited breath until he heard the chief's voice boom from a bullhorn. That was the distraction that he had been waiting for.

Dashing into the now-empty boutique, Frank looked around until he spotted the door leading into the back room. Having memorized the plans, he found a small alcove that housed the ladder, and began his ascent to the roof.

* * *

It had been a clear and calm day in Bayport, and that Frank was immensely grateful for. With the exception of the hot tar on the roof, he had no problem getting to the low wall that separated the roofs of each store and quickly step over it.

In the distance he could still hear Chief Collig talking over the bullhorn. So far so good. Anything to keep Ansem out of the backroom.

He ran over to the hatch leading to the ladder and checked his watch. Fifteen minutes left.

The hatch to the jewelry store ladder opened easily, and he slowly made his way down rung by rung. He was looking down as he went, so when he got near the bottom he noticed a pair of hands handcuffed to one of the lower rungs. Joe!

Frank carefully skipped the last few rungs and quietly made it into the backroom of the store. He found Joe unconscious, half sitting/half leaning against a wall. Frank noted that his hands were bound with what looked like

Police-issue handcuffs.

He then felt for his brother's pulse and found it strong. Joe would wake up soon enough, but if they were to have any chance to escape, he would need to free his brother from the cuffs and fast. He grabbed a lock pick tool from his pocket that he had grabbed from the van and set to work.

* * *

Sounds of metal on metal roused Joe, and he opened his eyes with a groan. When he saw Frank, he nearly whooped for joy until he remembered where he was. He whispered low. "Frank! How did you get in here?"

Frank grinned. "Good of you to finally join me. There's a distraction out front, and I gained roof access from next door. It's a good thing they never got around to those main street building renovations."

After a few moments, he had freed the handcuffs binding Joe's wrists. "Can you stand? We have to get out of here."

Joe tried getting to his feet, but the pain shooting through his left leg nearly made him double over. "Aw man, Ansem pummeled me earlier and made me go down hard. Coach is going to be mad - I promised him double laps next practice to get enough time to come here."

Frank checked his watch- he had less than five minutes to make up his mind. The emergency exit was right next to where Joe sat, but without Mr. Moneyhan's keys, the alarm would sound, and he wouldn't be able to go fast propping up Joe. His brother was also in no shape to climb the ladder access to the roof.

"Frank, behind you!"

Thanks to Joe's warning, he turned just in time to see Ansem coming up behind them. Frank crouched low and swept out with his leg, but Ansem anticipated the move by jumping back out of his range and smiling.

"Well now, isn't this cozy, the two guys who ruined my life are right here in the same room with me. It's like Christmas in July."

Frank stood up quickly and fell back into a defensive stance. "Funny, try telling that to your brother that you murdered in cold blood."

Ansem put up his hands. His tone was mocking. "Richard was an ass, and had to be dealt with. He should have lent me the money I asked for. That's what brother's do after all, right?"

And with that he surged forward, swinging around with a left hook that Frank easily blocked. Frank shifted around, landing a solid high kick to Ansem's jaw that sent him staggering.

He closed in on Ansem, intending not to let him get any space. "Give it up. The police are outside and they will be storming this place any minute."

Ansem smirked this time. "Haven't you learned by now? I am unpredictable and as random as they come, and as I have said before, I will not be taken in again."

Growling, he rushed at Frank low, which the teen tried to counter.

* * *

At the last moment, Ansem pulled the nightstick off of his belt, striking his quarry in the chest. The dark haired boy went down hard, slumping to the ground. 

"Frank!"

Ansem wheeled at the sound of Joe's anguished voice. He had about enough of this boy and his antics. He advanced on Joe. "Shut up!"

He advanced on the younger Hardy, and was amused when the Blonde haired boy tried to scramble away from him. "How cute, you are afraid of me. I'll show you what you should be afraid of."

* * *

Moaning, Frank breathed even-out. He had to get up!

He forced himself to his knees just as he heard Joe cry out. Frank turned sharply and saw that Joe was laying face down on the ground. Ansem stood above Joe with his nightstick in hand, and Frank's heart lurched when he saw the glint of something wet dripping off of the weapon.

Frank watched as if in slow motion. Ansem stood above Joe's motionless form and cackled, raising the nightstick he was holding. He was going to kill his brother!

"NO!"

* * *

A siren blasted from the back of the building. Mr. Moneyhan shouted. "That's the emergency exit siren!"

Chief Collig swore. There was less than a minute left on Frank's deadline, but he had no choice. "We can't wait anymore." He quickly spoke into his walkie-talkie. "Units 1 and 2, converge on the shop now!"

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Desperation  
**A Hardy Boys fanfic  
by Time Guardian

Frank Hardy woke up, if it could be said of waking up tied to a chair.

His head was pounding, and it was an effort to blink away his wavy vision. Focusing his breathing, he found that he was able to clear his head after a few precious moments.

The day had been a mess. He had gone from being happy to turn nineteen to fighting with a crazed criminal who  
didn't care who he hurt:

_Luckily, Ansem had stopped his assault on Joe, but his next demand filled him with dread. The man edged towards  
Frank and pulled a gun from his holster. "You are going to leave here with me, or your brother will have a gunshot  
to add to the list of his troubles."_

_Frank normally could think through any situation, but the sight of his brother lying there motionless-_

_Ansem growled. "Pick it up, Hardy number one." He turned and deliberately fired a shot that landed mere inches away from Joe's head._

"All right, Stop it!" he pleaded. "I'll go with you, just leave my brother out of this!"

The man then directed Frank to open the emergency door, but yanked him back inside when the alarm sounded. Ansem  
pointed to the ladder. "You and I are going to hit the roof."

* * *

Frank had to give Ansem credit. The man forced him at gunpoint to climb to the roof, and keep low to the roofline. Frank couldn't get more than a few fee away from him, and somehow Ansem managed to stay behind him. If he couldn't see where his enemy was, Frank sure wasn't going to give him an easy target. He also realized with some disappointment that from their vantage point, neither his father nor Chief Collig could see them. After going over four rooftops, Ansem had motioned him to go down the roof access ladder of the store they were on. With some amazement, Frank realized that they had come down into an empty store.

"I know how to plan them, don't I? Now move." He ordered.

The empty store had been quite some distance away from where the two police cruisers were stationed, so by the time  
they left the empty store from the front, no one was paying attention to the two of them. Ansem motioned to a non  
descript gray car parked along the street and got Frank to open the door.

That was the last thing that Frank remembered before waking up here, but where was here?

The light was almost non existent from his vantage point, but a small window near the front of the room let in a  
small shaft of moonlight. He could make out the shapes of various pieces of furniture, but it was the painting of  
the cityscape on the far wall that told it all.

Illuminated by the moonlight, he could make out the skyline, and stars above it painted as long yellow streaks.  
Frank knew then where he was: Richard Jamison's house.

His thoughts then turned to Joe. He didn't even know if his brother was alive, which worried him all the more. For  
all he knew, Joe could be - no he couldn't think like that. He had to hold out hope.

Frank was broken from his thoughts by a hissing voice at his ear. "Awake are we? You ruined my chance for a  
score, Hardy. But then again, you and your runt brother were always good at ruining plans."

So Ansem had not had a chance to get anything from the jewelry store. He felt relieved at that point, but he had to  
find out what this guy was planning. Frank's mind whirred with the possibilities, none of which were  
good. "So what are you going to do with me?"

Ansem grinned, then stood up and deliberately mussed Frank's hair. "Well, seeing as how I still need funds to  
get to where I need to go, I'll ransom you to the highest bidder."

Ok, that was the last thing he was expecting. He turned sharply to look at the man. "What?"

The man straightened and chuckled as he walked around Frank's chair. "I am pretty sure between you, your brother  
and your father that you have acquired many enemies. You wouldn't believe the amount of underworld connections one  
can get in federal prison. In fact, the nice doctor that had a look at my head was most amused when he received a  
nice hunk of dough from my account. I'll simply arrange an auction for you. Simple, no?"

--

Fenton Hardy sat in the small hospital room of Bayport General, and watched over his son Joe as he slept.

When the police had stormed into the jewelry and engraving shop, they found Joe lying on the floor in the backroom, unconscious and bleeding. Frank and Ansem were nowhere to be found, and that worried him all the more.

Doctors had run a CAT scan on Joe. Thankfully they had found no internal bleeding, but they did suspect a full  
blown concussion, and they told him that his son was incredibly lucky that he did not have a skull fracture. It took multiple stitches on the back of his head and his forehead to close the scalp wounds that Ansem had inflicted. A Velcro brace kept Joe's leg immobile, and they considered him lucky that he didn't have more than a severe sprain.

Fenton felt a sense of helplessness at the sight of his son, his head dwarfed by a big white bandage and his face pale as death. It had been nearly six hours ago since he was brought in, and Joe had not woken up once.

When Frank and Joe first expressed interest in becoming detectives, his wife Laura had warned him that there would  
be times like this. The worry, the not-knowing, Laura let him know more than once that she had gone through all of  
that many different times over the years with each case he took on. He grew to understand this over the years, but  
it still didn't make the reality any easier.

"Mr. Hardy?"

Looking up, he noticed that Vanessa Bender had crept into the room. Joe's girlfriend had come to the hospital soon after he phoned home to report what happened after the police stormed the shop. Judging by the wrinkles in her blue party dress and her mussed hair, he surmised that she had been trying to sleep unsuccessfully in one of the  
waiting room chairs.

She kept her voice low. "Chief Collig is in the waiting room and is wanting to see you."

Fenton got to his feet and offered the chair he had been sitting in to her. "Thank you, Vanessa. Tell you what, why  
don't you have a seat for a while. It would do my son well to wake up to a familiar face."

She smiled. "I'd like that."

--

Fenton let out a pent up breath as he walked out of his son's room, and navigated the maze of corridors  
over to the waiting room. At that time of morning, there were very few people in the hallways. When he reached  
the waiting room, he found that many of the occupants were trying to get much needed naps: Chet Morton was slumped  
forward in his chair, Callie Shaw leaned against the window from her corner seat, and Tony Prito sat with his head  
propped up by his arm on the chair.

The only one awake was Ezra Collig. He apparently had not went home, for he was still wearing his dark blue shirt  
with his badge and jeans. Once he caught sight of Fenton, he motioned out to the hallway. "Let's talk out there."

Once the two men met in the hallway, Fenton realized that Ezra seemed to be in a state of frustration. "Fenton,  
how's Joe?"

He shook his head. "Not awake yet. All of the tests indicated no internal bleeding and all- how about you,  
any luck finding Frank or Ansem?"

The Chief shook his head. "I got in touch with the state and federal authorities to help me cast a dragnet. Media  
has been alerted also. I was going to check out all of Ansem's old haunts - I just wish I knew them all."

The admission surprised Fenton. "Wait - I don't know much about this case. I was on one of my own when Frank and Joe  
helped you on this. Weren't you with them all the way?"

In reply, Ezra grabbed his arm. "There's a lot to explain in a short time. Let me treat you to some hospital coffee  
in the cafeteria and I will tell you all about it."

_

* * *

Next chapter: Get the story from the Chief himself, where he tells Fenton of the case where Frank and Joe first encountered Ansem.  
_


	5. Chapter 5

_Ok, this chapter is the reason for the T rating. Thought I would be safe than sorry. There is a murder scene later on in this chapter. I don't think it's too graphic, but just in case you want to skip it, make sure you read to the point where they rush to Richard's house, then skip to the next divider. On with the show! _

**Desperation  
**A Hardy Boys fanfic  
by Time Guardian

Fenton Hardy followed Chief Ezra Collig to the elevators and rode them to the second floor, where they got out and made the short trek to the cafeteria. At that time a day, hardly anyone was in there, save for a doctor taking his break.

Ezra ordered two coffees from one of the vending machines. The two men then chose to sit at a table flanking one of the windows overlooking the front hospital parking lot. It was still dark outside, and the few lights in the parking lot cast a dim glow over the cars that were there.

They both sat for a few minutes, each of them sipping their coffee and looking out the window.

It was the Chief that finally broke the silence. "I kind of feel responsible about all of this, because I had referred Richard Jamison to the boys. His brother Ansem was worrying him, but at that time he hadn't committed a crime-"

* * *

Accountant Richard Jamison nervously paced the length of his living room, the worry evident in his face. 

"My stockbroker brother came to me the other day for money. He said he needed fifty thousand dollars. I have that kind of money, of course, but he shouldn't need it. The last time I worked with him and his accounts, he had a net worth of over five hundred thousand dollars."

Frank and Joe Hardy sat on the sofa, listening intently. Chief Collig had told them that Richard had come to the police for help, but considering that Ansem had committed no crime, there was nothing they could do. He had referred Richard to the Hardys, and they had soon received an urgent phone call to come over to his house.

"How could have he lost the money?" Frank asked.

Richard stopped pacing long enough to glare at him. "Oh, I KNOW how he lost it. He had recently sunk a lot of his money into stocks in the technology sector. These stocks were for speculative ventures, like a new electronic company making the latest mp3 player, or the newest movie technology. Thing is, these speculative stocks turned out to be a classic Pump and Dump scheme."

"Pump and Dump scheme?" Joe echoed.

"A few ringers holding some nondescript stock pump it up by advertising and campaigning to get other investor's interests. Additional investors come in and buy stock, helping to drive the price up. When they like the price, the ringers sell off their stocks and stop the campaigning," Richard explained.

"I get it," Frank thought out loud, "the stock price drops like a rock, and with no new intrest, there's no new inflow of investors, and the ringers make a mint."

Richard nodded. "And my brother got caught up in it all. He's usually smarter than this, but the stocks were for a supposed new electronics firm and all, and he's had an affinity for anything tech," he broke off for a moment as a thought crossed his mind, "Anyhow, that's not why I called you. It was his reaction to me, when I told him that I wasn't going to help him with any money."

"What happened?" Frank asked.

Richard suppressed a shudder as he tried to explain. "His eyes were so cold. I apologized to him. Most of my money is already spent in my business, since I run it out of my home here, and I knew my account couldn't take a hit like that. He then started shrieking at me, saying that I had signed his death warrant, and that if he was going down, that he would take me with him. He then stormed out. Before all of this, I had lost track of him for the past two years, but in that time, it seems that Ansem has become a stranger. I tried to find him through the places I remembered that he liked, but he wasn't at any of them."

Joe stood, trying to work the kinks out of his stiff shoulders and keep things on topic. "So where do we come in, Mr. Jamison?"

The man turned to gaze at a cityscape painting he had on a far wall. "Find him. I will give you a description and anything else I know about my brother. I have a feeling he's in trouble in more ways than one."

Frank stood up and walked over to Mr. Jamison. "You don't think that he would follow through on his threat, do you?"

Richard's gaze never strayed from the painting, but his answer sent chills down Frank's spine.

"If you had seen the look in his eyes, you wouldn't have had to ask that question."

* * *

Fenton was astounded. "He was that spooked?" 

Ezra nodded as he drank the last of his coffee. "I even tried to encourage him to file for a restraining order, but he claimed that wouldn't work. Wouldn't give me a reason why either, that's the main reason I recommended that he hire private detectives."

"I can see why your hands were tied," Fenton murmured. "So Frank and Joe started their surveillance?"

"Yes. Frank told me the first few days were the hardest. Richard had given them a few leads and some of Ansem's favorite places, but they covered them and there was no sign of him," Ezra replied. "The guy hadn't shown up for work either. Ansem's boss was fit to be tied, but knew little about what the guy was doing, save for the stock scam that tripped him up. The boys then decided to regroup-"

* * *

Frank and Joe sat in the deli across from the stockbroker firm they had just been to and eagerly tore into their sandwiches. It had been a week already, and all they had to show for it was a laundry list of dead ends, and no one willing to add to Ansem's character. 

Joe took a bite of his sandwich and then sat back with a contented sigh. "The legwork in this job can sure make you hungry. I can think a little better now, but what I am seeing here is one big goose egg. Save for this guy's boss steaming over the stock scam, we have nothing showing Ansem's intentions."

Frank leaned back in his chair and glanced out the window at the firm they had just left. "The boss may have blown us off, but did you notice those two guys in the office that stared at us when we arrived and when we left?"

Joe frowned, trying to recall his memory of the area. "Sure, the skinny guy and the strong man with the bad toupee?"

His brother nodded. "When we were talking to the boss, they seemed to take great interest in our conversation. The skinny guy must have walked past the boss' door at least five times while we were talking to him."

Joe thought for a moment as he glanced out of the window. "Well, if you want an idea, it has just come out of the office. The twosome in question just walked out, but it looks like they are going in separate directions."

Frank sighed, looking at the remnants of his unfinished meal. "Ok, who do you want to follow?"

Joe cracked a wry smile as he too regarded their delicious yet unfinished meal. "I'll take the strong guy. I'll leave the egg-head looking guy to a fellow egg-head."

His brother groaned. "Funny. Let's meet back home in two hours, and then we will compare notes."

* * *

Ezra got up to throw away his coffee cup, and then returned to his seat. "We found out later that the skinny guy's name was Norman Winters, and the strong man they referred to was Leonard Gatz." 

Fenton latched onto the second name almost immediately. "Leonard Gatz? As in 'Lenny the shark'?"

His friend nodded. "Mhmm, and though authorities won't admit it, he been reported as having his hands in every financial related fiasco on the Eastern Seaboard alone."

"So Ansem had ties to organized crime?"

Ezra gave a slight shrug. "Not that we can prove. But Joe got a first hand view of one of their 'meetings'-"

* * *

Joe kept as far back as he dared while following the strong man. The man was hard to miss in a powder blue suit, but he was walking fast down the street. It looked like he was heading for the parking lot near the stockbroker office. 

He thanked this stroke of luck since they had chosen to park the van in that lot earlier. If this guy got in a car, he would be ready.

The man rounded the corner of the building and walked into the parking lot. Joe lingered at the corner of the building for a few extra seconds, and then he walked on into the parking lot.

The parking lot itself was big, made to accommodate the various businesses that were in the area. With it being near midday, the lot was only half full. A few cars were leaving, apparently to head out for lunch or other places.

Joe kept his manner non-chalant, walking towards the van as if he had a purpose, maybe to get something out of it perhaps. All the while, he scanned the lot, looking for his mark.

He found him over in one corner. The man looked to be in deep conversation with another man. They were more than a couple of feet away, but judging by the posture and the hair color of the second man, the man he was following could very well be talking to Ansem Jamison.

It was simple enough - Joe realized he had to get closer.

When Joe reached the van, he ducked low. He would have to time this just right.

Every few seconds he ducked and weaved around different parked cars, all the while directing himself as far near the corner as he dared.

After he managed to get over a few aisles, he could hear snatches of their conversation.

"You didn't get the money?"

"...I'm sorry Lenny! I tried telling my brother how much in trouble I was, but he would have none of it!"

"You twit! You may want to get to the Caribbean, but your life won't be a worth a plug nickel if they track you down."

Joe processed the information he had heard. So Ansem was indeed in trouble. Lenny seemed to be an intermediary and -

He was so busy pondering the information that he leaned too close to one of the cars, and it happened to be one with a car alarm.

The siren cut through the air like a knife. Joe scrambled away from the offending noise, but it put him into the open.

That was his first mistake.

He quickly tried to scramble to hide behind another car, when he felt someone grab the back of his neck and forced him to stand up by applying pressure.

"Well looks like the snoop that was following me is finally making his presence known. Move it!"

The voice was Lenny's, and judging by the pressure he was applying, Joe's assessment of him as a strong man was dead on.

Lenny led him over to where the other man was stand. Now that he was closer, Joe realized that the man Lenny was talking to was indeed Ansem Jamison. Judging by the man's expression though, he sure didn't look like a man in trouble. "What's going on here?"

Lenny's voice was harsh against Joe's ear. "I spotted this punk following me here. I thought I had lost him when I entered the parking lot, buit apparently not. He and his brother were at the stockbroker firm asking about you."

Ansem then turned to regard him. "You were looking for me?"

Joe pondered his options, and then decided to take the straight approach. He didn't have much to lose since Lenny had already blabbed about their appearance at the stockbroker firm. "My name is Joe Hardy. Ansem, your brother is worried about you. He sent my brother Frank and I to find you. We can help you."

What he didn't expect next was the sound of Ansem's laughter. "Help? Do you really think I would need help from the likes of you? Who I really needed help from was my brother, but the selfish bastard had the audacity to turn me down, told me I was 'on my own'."

"He wanted to help you, but his money is in his business," Joe retorted, squirming in Lenny's grasp.

Ansem walked closer to Joe. "Brothers are supposed to help you, no matter what. When Richard was in need of clients, I directed some to him."

"And I'm sure he realizes that. Talk to him, maybe there's some sort of compromise you guys can come up with," Joe pleaded.

Ansem stopped his ranting. "You know, you are right. This has gone on long enough."

Joe watched in interest as Ansem took out a cell phone and dialed a number. He then put the phone up to his ear. "Hello Richard? It's me. Yeah, I know you have been worried. I was speaking with one of the detectives you sent to find me, and well, I'd like to talk to you. Maybe there is something you can do to help me out. In twenty minutes, your house? I will see you there."

The teen visibly relaxed. Maybe this would turn out for the best.

Ansem disconnected the call, and slipped the cell phone back in his pocket. He motioned to Lenny, and Joe felt the pressure on the back of his neck release. "Well, we shall see what my brother has to say. You can go, Mr. Hardy, I have things well in hand."

Joe took two steps back and regarded the two of them. Both were all smiles, and yet for some reason something didn't feel right. Maybe if he and Frank were there, they could make sure that things didn't get out of hand.

He turned to leave, and that is when Joe made his next mistake.

He felt something blunt and heavy slam into the back of his neck. Joe then fell forward onto the asphalt, his head spinning.

Footsteps sounded. Joe tried to raise his head, but the pounding in his head prevented him from doing anything much other than groaning.

He heard Ansem's voice once more, and what sounded like the cocking of a gun. "Oh, Mr. Hardy, don't worry, this gun isn't meant for you. My brother has to encounter his day of reckoning sooner or later, and if I don't get the answer I am looking for, he will die. It's as simple as that. Good day, Mr. Hardy."

And with that, the footsteps faded away, then the sound of a car starting up and squealing out of the parking lot.

* * *

It was at least ten minutes following the skinny man before Frank realized that all he was doing was grabbing lunch at the deli that they had been eating at earlier. Maybe he had been too concerned after all. He had felt even more at ease when he had received a call from Richard indicating that Ansem was willing to meet with him in twenty minutes. 

Frank then decided to backtrack to the van to see if maybe he could catch up with Joe.

When he reached the parking lot where their van was located, he found Joe sprawled on the ground!

Frank rushed over to where his brother laid, and was relieved to see that he was moving. "Are you all right?"

He heard his brother groan. "Owww. Frank, help me up."

Frank helped his brother into a sitting position as he looked over at the tree branch laying beside his brother. "Joe, what happened?"

"Let's just say they were expecting me." Joe then explained to his brother about how he was ambushed and the subsequent conversation that occurred.

"I don't like this at all," Frank stated. "Richard called me a few minutes ago, and that's why I was on my way back to the parking lot. Ansem called him and and arranged to meet him at his house. He said that he was going to go try and help him."

"He agreed to meet with him?" Joe asked incredulously. "Frank, Ansem made his plans crystal clear - if he couldn't get the money from Richard, he plans to kill him. I heard it straight from his own lips."

Frank checked his watch, and then rushed to help his brother stand up. "The meeting was set up for ten minutes from now, so we do not have much time. We better hurry over there, and hopefully we can stop a murder."

* * *

With Frank's frantic driving, they had made it back to Richard's house in nine minutes. 

They reached the front door of the house, and when they heard voices inside, Frank and Joe tried the door.

It opened, and they carefully walked into the living room, where they found Ansem sitting in an armchair.

Richard was sitting on the sofa, but judging by the expression on his face, they knew something was wrong. "Frank, Joe, have you met my brother?"

When they walked around to face the two of them, Frank could see the reason for Richard's discomfort.

Ansem was holding a gun on Richard.

"What are you doing?" Joe shouted.

Ansem turned around, and they could see the ghost of a smile on his lips. "He's made his choice."

And before either Hardy could react, Ansem turned back around and shot his brother in the chest.

Richard gasped as a bright red stain bloomed out from the center of his chest. He quickly collapsed to the ground unmoving.

Joe seethed in anger, and leaped at Ansem. For his efforts Ansem fell back onto the carpet, but he still had the gun in his hand. Frank remedied that by quickly applying a karate chop to Ansem's gun hand, forcing the gun to the floor.

Ansem countered by squirming out of Joe's hold, and then made a mad dash for the front door.

Joe, still feeling the effects from the attack earlier, was slow to rise, but he got up and ran after Ansem.

Frank stared at the scene in shock. Richard laid on the floor unmoving, the blood that had been spurting out of his chest wound now slowed to a trickle. Checking Richard's pulse confirmed it - he was dead, there was no doubt about it.

Frank quickly got to his feet and rushed out of the front of the house, but both Richard's car and their van were gone.

His brother was going after this monster alone. Maybe he couldn't follow Joe, but he knew who could.

* * *

"-And that is when Frank called me," Ezra explained. "I put out an APB on Richard's car and ordered Frank to stay at the scene." 

Fenton was beginning to understand. "So that may have been why neither of them spoke of this case. To have someone murdered in front of their eyes-"

Ezra nodded. "Though they wouldn't admit it to me then, they both were deeply affected, I could tell. A brotherly bond reduced to murder is especially hard to take considering the circumstances."

Fenton stood and noticed that the main part of the cafeteria was opening for breakfast. "Let's get something to eat, then you can continue your story."

* * *

The two men had quickly proceeded through the food line, then proceeded back to the table with their plates piled high with eggs and bacon. 

They quietly ate for a few moments before Fenton put his fork down. "So you had said that Joe followed Ansem using the van, what happened after that?"

Ezra explained. "Joe ended up losing Ansem in a small town just outside of Bayport - a pretty run down area, just one or two apartment complexes and a small handful of houses and businesses. When he returned to Richard's house hours later, both Frank and I read him the riot act for trying to follow such a dangerous man after having been attacked in the business parking lot earlier. I had them escorted home to get some rest, because that was the only way they would leave."

Fenton watched his friend frown before he continued. "The APB turned up the car in downtown Bayport. We made a search of the immediate area, but found nothing. Days later was when he robbed the bank - five hundred thousand dollars was in there due to a special money transfer the government was handling. Apparently Ansem found out about it and took full advantage, even killing a guard in the process. What had started as a murder investigation was now a federal investigation. The FBI swooped in and immediately took jurisdiction on the case."

"So what did they find?" Fenton asked.

"They were pretty thorough, and even managed to pick up Lenny the shark. He supposedly turned quite the stool pigeon. He claimed that Ansem had stowed the money in an offshore account but was on his way to Canada. When I told Frank and Joe about what Lenny had told us, they were mad enough to storm out of the station."

Fenton tried to make sense of it all. "So wasn't that the end of it? The FBI knew where to look after all. That should have been enough, even for Frank and Joe."

Ezra shook his head. "If I had known then what I know now, I would have put those two in protective custody."

* * *

Frank and Joe stormed out of the police station. 

Frank was worried. During the entire time that they were in the station listening to Chief Collig explain what Lenny the shark had revealed, Joe was visibly on edge, and now that they had left the station, he was acting even more weird. He was a good yard ahead of Frank, and yet seemed to be in his own little world.

Enough was enough.

Frank broke into a run to catch up with his brother and finally reached him mere steps before they reached the van.

"Ok, spill," Frank ordered. "You look like you are ready to explode."

His brother stopped and stared at the ground, absently kicking at a pebble on the sidewalk. "I heard Ansem, if he was going to escape, he was going to choose a Carribean island, not Canada."

"Maybe he doesn't have the money he needs," Frank suggested.

Joe snorted. "Five hundred thousand dollars? C'mon Frank, that would cover quite a bit."

"Ok, ok. Say for the sake of argument that Ansem is still here in the states. Where is he, Joe?"

Caught on the hop, Joe thought furiously for a few moments. "The time he ran after the murder, I lost him just a mile or two out of town. There's a group of homes over there, with at least two apartment complexes."

Frank shook his head. "Isn't this stretching it a bit? What are the odds that he will run back to the same area?"

Joe countered. "What are the odds that Lenny guy is telling the truth? Frank, we owe Richard this much. If Ansem is still here, he could cause more trouble."

His brother thought for a moment. "True. We technically didn't finish the job. Ok, we will give it a week. If we don't find proof that Ansem still is in the area, we will leave it to the FBI. Deal?"

Joe nodded once. "Deal."

* * *

Fenton Hardy shook his head. "That is Joe for you - impetuous to a fault. So I assume they found something?" 

Ezra chuckled. "Danged it all, Joe was right on the money. According to their accounts, it took them two more weeks and a lot of footwork, but they tracked him down to a run down apartment complex that is normally home to 'undesirable elements'. Turned out he was getting ready to book it for the Bahamas. He had given that garbage to Lenny as a diversion. Once they got videotaped proof he was there, the FBI moved in and nabbed Ansem. The boys were there, and I think it did them good to see an end to this."

Fenton finished the last of his meal and looked up at his friend. "All of that to get caught at an apartment complex?"

Ezra nodded. "He didn't make it easy on us, that's for sure. I hate to admit it, but if it weren't for your boys, we may never have been able to find him there and smoke him out."

He finished the last of him meal and stood up, looking out the window. The sun was higher now, and the clouds had burned off, leaving a clear blue sky. "Another day dawns, and a madman is on the loose. I am going to check with the station, then go to the last few places Ansem has been, starting with that apartment complex."

Fenton thought for a quick moment before coming to a decision. "I am coming with you."

His friend gave him a questioning glance. "Are you sure? What about Joe?"

Fenton's face was set in a determined scowl. "I will make sure someone is here to keep an eye on him. Ezra, Frank is out there and he needs our help.

After a few moments, his friend nodded understandingly. "Let's go then."

* * *

_A story within a story is an interesting concept, but this took more time than I thought it would. Next time, we will get back to the main story: Joe wakes up, and Callie and Vanessa do a little legwork of their own_. 


	6. Chapter 6

Joe opened his eyes, and strangely found the light to be quite dim. His thoughts were jumbled.

-_What happened? Why am I here?-_

"Joe?"

The voice - it sounded familiar and yet so far. He tried to reach up a hand and found himself to weak to do that. Joe felt gentle hands clasp his arm and gently laying it back at his side.

There was a person sitting beside his bed, and it took what little concentration he had left for Joe to focus. His voice came out more as a croak. "Vanessa?"

His vision wavered for a few more moments before he could recognize that it was indeed his girlfriend Vanessa sitting in a chair beside his bed. So he was in a hospital, that much he could make out, but why?

Vanessa smiled. "Welcome back, hero. You had us all scared."

He tried moving his head with the unfortunate side effect of letting loose an explosion inside his brain. Grimacing, he closed his eyes.

She tried to soothe him as best she could. "Now don't leave me here alone again. Try opening your eyes slower and don't move your head. You have a nasty concussion after all."

So that's why his head felt like world war III had invaded it. Joe did as she asked, and managed to keep his eyes open this time. He saw the white walls of his room and saw the IV that had been placed in his arm and realized he was in the hospital. He tried grabbing at the jumbled thoughts in his head, and many eluded his grasp except for one. "Frank?"

Vanessa had a pained look that she quickly hid under a mask of concern. "I debated telling you this, but you should know: Frank was kidnapped by Ansem. Your father and Chief Collig are looking for him now."

The news hit home, and he started to try and get up. "I have to find-"

She saw what he was doing and headed him off, pushing him back onto the bed. The fact that she was even able to that only reaffirmed her action.

The door opened, and Vanessa recognized Laura Hardy as she walked into the room. "Mrs. Hardy-"

Joe's mom smiled at her, then looked at Joe. "How is he?"

Vanessa frowned. "He's awake, but he wants to get out of bed."

Mrs. Hardy arched a brow. "So soon? I'll see that my son stays put. Why don't you get some sleep? You look beat."

Vanessa looked back at Joe in doubt. "Are you sure?"

Laura looked at her knowingly. "There will be a police guard on his room, plus I will be here. Those were the orders from a certain bossy detective husband of mine."

Vanessa smiled, satisfied that Joe would be protected by his family. She turned to leave when she felt Joe's hand on her arm. His weak voice nabbed at her. "Van, please, can I ask a favor?"

Laura started to protest, but the girl interrupted. "It's all right Mrs. Hardy. If it will help him, I want to do it." She leaned forward. "What is it?"

Joe spoke quickly, the effort taking almost all of his energy. "Find Leonard Gatz. He knows."

_-Leonard Gatz_- Vanessa committed the name to memory, and then stood up, smoothing out the wrinkles in her party dress. "Get some rest, hero. I'll be back soon."

* * *

The image of Joe lying in the hospital bed helpless wouldn't leave Vanessa's mind even as she walked back to the waiting room. Now that the sun was up the room was more of a hive of activity, and that is what she needed.

She ran a hand through her ash blonde hair and yawned. Ever since they had received the news of what happened to Joe, Vanessa and the others had set up refuge here, and the news she had to impart left her feeling a bit hopeless.

"Vanessa?"

She turned around in some surprise to see Callie Shaw standing behind her. "I didn't realize you had left the room. Did you get much sleep?"

Callie shook her head quickly. "when I tried I ended up dreaming of Frank. How's Joe?"

Vanessa glanced at the floor. "Joe's really shook up with the concussion and all. I'm afraid that he's in no shape to leave that bed."

Callie frowned. "Then I guess it is up to their dad and Chief Collig. I saw them leave about twenty minutes ago to go searching. I just wish there was a way we could help."

_Help-_ Vanessa turned over the possibility in her mind, and Joe's request came back to mind _-Find Leonard Gatz, he knows.-_ "Actually, I think I may know a way. Do you have any contacts on the local paper?"

Callie nodded eagerly. "I interned with one of the local writers this past summer. If there's anything brewing in the area, reporter Brad Stockman would know where to go."

Vanessa had the forming of a plan in her mind, but first she outlined to Callie what Joe had said, and then they agreed upon their next course of action.

* * *

Federal prison was wearing pretty well on Lenny the Shark. In the time that he had been put in there, he had made connections with his fellow inmates, and soon he had a small sub economy set up that left him sitting pretty where supplies were concerned. Screw Ansem and his crazy deals, as long as he got extra food in the lunch line and more tv time, that was all he needed for now.

It was just after exercise time. Lenny sat in his cell with his roomie, a man who had maxed out on the three strikes rule. They were getting ready to play cards when one of the guards came to get him.

"Lenny, you have a phone call."

Considering the dust had barely settled on his trial, Lenny wondered who could possibly be calling - was it his miserable excuse for a court appointed defense attorney?

After the guard had unlocked the door and secured Lenny's hands, they walked out, stopping only briefly for the guard to close the door again. Lenny then was led to a small room at the end of the cell block. In the room there was only a table, a chair, and what looked like a speakerphone. Lenny was directed to sit down, and then the guard moved to the entrance of the door and just stood there.

Okay, Lenny thought, what now?

His answer came when the speakerphone crackled to life, and a distinctly female voice came through.

"Leonard Gatz, my name is Miss Callie Shaw, and I am with the Bayport Herald. You by all rights do not have to talk to me, but if you are willing, what you have to say may be able to be used to reduce your sentence."

* * *

_Ok, Ok, I know, it's been a while. A writers block coupled with another side project kinda stymied me for a bit. Hopefully there's still someone out there reading. :) __Next chapter: Callie picks a felon's brain, Vanessa hits cyberspace, and the search efforts of Fenton and Ezra continue. _


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: The tax record searches as depicted in Vanessa's search along with the social networking site she finds are complete works of fiction, and are not meant to indicate any pre-existing systems out there for real. _

As soon as she left the hospital, Callie went home to shower and change into a blue blouse and jeans, and then went by the offices of the Bayport Herald.

The newspaper had only recently gone into circulation, and it was already winning state and regional awards for the historical pieces they featured. They also excelled in another area - Bradley Stockman.

The crime columnist had wanted to settle into a small town, and had been friends with the owner. As a result, Bradley came to settle down in Bayport, and was still able to write exposes and crime articles that were turning the heads of the region journalism authorities. It also turned out to be a beneficial deal, because when Callie came to work at the paper for the summer, she was assigned with Bradley due to her previous adventures with the Hardys plus a good understanding of the local law enforcement. She had learned much from him that summer, and she was hoping his contacts could get her a conversation with Leonard Gatz now.

Callie entered the building and checked in at the reception desk. The secretary gave her a visitor's badge, which she clipped onto her blouse, and then she sat down on one of the cushioned lobby chairs to wait.

--

"Callie, my dear, it has been ages."

Callie looked up from her seat to find that Brad had come to the lobby to get her. He was an older man, pushing his late fifties by her judgment even though he would never say. Dressed in jeans and a long sleeved shirt, he reminded her of the Hollywood actors on holiday, trying to look far relaxed than they truly were. 

She stood and gave Brad a quick hug. "It's good to see you, Mr. Stockman."

"Now Callie, you know you know you can call me Brad," he admonished. "Besides, it's not everyday my star pupil comes back to visit me. Come in the back with me and we can catch up on old times."

She followed Brad to the main office area. There, dozens of cubicles had been set up in a myriad of configurations. After a few moments of twists and turns, he led her to a small room near the far corner of the area. Inside they had a long glass table flanked by multiple office chairs.

Callie remembered from her previous time here that this room had been used many a time for staff meetings, but today it was just the two of them. She took a seat in one of the office chairs in the room as he closed the door.

Brad took a seat across from her and got down to business. "Now, as I understood your phone call earlier this morning, you are in the middle of a big case and you need a big favor?"

She nodded gravely. "You probably heard about the botched jewelry store robbery downtown?"

Brad nodded. "Yeah, I heard about it when it came over the police band when they were calling in the FBI, why?"

She cast a glance at the ground. "Frank was kidnapped and Joe was injured in the attempt."

Brad's eyes widened. "I see. I am sorry to hear about that. They did verify that it was Ansem that made the attempt?"

Callie nodded. "We also have one clue to go on. Joe mentioned a name - Leonard Gatz, have you heard of him?"

Smiling, Brad stood and began to pace the room. "I should say I have. I was the one that got first interview rights once he was convicted. He's big news."

"Joe seems to think that this guy would know where Ansem is. It's pretty urgent Brad - Ansem messed up Joe but good. I think that if he didn't have such a hard head, he'd probably be dead and Frank-"

Callie promised herself that she would remain strong for both of their sakes, but she had seen the haunted look Vanessa had, and it scared her. If Ansem could do such damage to Joe-

Brad stopped in front of her chair and dropped to his knees. "Hey now, no supposition before you get your facts straight. You've regaled me of many a tale of the Hardy's exploits, and if there's one thing I learned from your stories, I know both of them are survivors. But I get your drift - in this case, even survivors need a little help."

He got back to his feet and resumed his pacing. Brad had told her during her internship that it was his thinking phase, and that many useful ideas came from these. "So, I take it you need an audience with Lenny the Shark? Thing is, he got shipped to a federal prison over in Jersey. That's too long a journey, but if the warden still remembers me, and if we can clear it with the shark's lawyer- it can be done."

He sat back down across from Callie and grabbed for the speakerphone at the middle of the table.

"Let's let our fingers do the walking shall we?"

--

Vanessa arrived home and reluctantly crashed in her room for about a half hour before getting up and showering, changing into her favorite pair of jeans and short sleeved green shirt.

She took at seat at her desk and powered up her computer. Joe had always complemented her on her extraordinary computer skills, and she made sure to keep them sharp. Her mom in her own rights had artistic talent, mixing that with technology to create cartoons, but when it came to computers, Vanessa made it a point to find the latest ways to get information.

She logged onto the net, and made a search for brokerage firms with online functionality. Maybe Ansem's habits didn't stray so far from his old life, or at least she hoped.

--

After getting the green light from the warden and with the promise to Lenny's attorney of any beneficial information to be passed on to the judge, all seemed to be ready. Brad ducked out of the room long enough to grab a pair of pens and legal pads. As he came back into the room and closed the door, he dropped the supplies on the table between them. "Ok, we are ready. Callie, I want you to be the one to do the talking. Lenny likes his women, and with the right 'charms' he just might reveal what we need to know."

Callie gulped. "But I- I don't know what to ask him!"

Brad leaned across the table and put a comforting hand over hers. "Take a breath, Ace. You think I wasn't nervous talking to my first convicted felon? Start him off slow, get him to talk about Ansem, and then let him know what's happened. I'll be here to guide you if you need me."

Brad had given her the nickname Ace during her internship when she impressed him with some research on an article she helped him with. The memory comforted her somehow. "Ok, let's do this."

"When all is said and done, you will share the byline with me," Brad declared, "Or you'll have me out of a job before too long. Hold on."

Callie waited as he dialed the prison and briefly spoke with the warden.

The connection went silent for a few moments, and then they heard an audible click.

Brad pointed to the speakerphone and mouthed. "Showtime."

Callie took a nervous breath, and then spoke. "Leonard Gatz, my name is Miss Callie Shaw, and I am with the Bayport Herald. You by all rights do not have to talk to me, but if you are willing, what you have to say may be able to be used to reduce your sentence."

--

After an hour of work Vanessa was ready to throw in the towel. Of all the stock trading and brokerage web sites she perused, there was nothing out of the ordinary, or no sign of anyone making any big unusual investments.

From what she knew of Ansem form the news reports, he seemed to have only just turned to crime, but it depended on how long he knew Lenny, which Callie was supposed to be finding out right now.

Well, if worse came to worse, she could at least do a check on Ansem and see what he may own.

She stood up, stretched, and then headed to the kitchen for a snack before continuing her search.

--

Callie waited for a reply, a sign that she was heard. Finally, she heard his voice.

"Well now, isn't this sweet? They send a girlie through the phone lines to chat me up."

He knew exactly what they were doing. She scrambled for something to say, but finally chose the truth.

"Look, you probably know by now that Ansem Jamison has escaped and is amassing funds for a big escape. Doesn't that bother you in the slightest?"

Harsh laughter came through the speakerphone. "Girlie, my needs are being met right now. I have no incentive to continue this conversation."

Brad wrote furiously on his pad and held it up for her to see. In big letters he wrote "HISTORY?"

Nodding, she changed her tact. "Oh, come now, Lenny, I am sure that you and Ansem go way back."

Precious seconds passed, and then Lenny's voice sounded more relaxed. "It wasn't that long. In fact, I didn't come in until the twit was in trouble."

She chuckled. "Twit? It sounds like you think he should have been able to get out of his own troubles."

"Ansem? He was a twit, falling for the stock scam they way he did, he was so worked on at both ends," Lenny replied mockingly, "I'm surprised he hasn't squandered away the 500k he robbed from the bank."

Callie's mind started working in overdrive. How would he have known about the amount of money from the robbery? She knew the media was not reporting the amount of money taken, and when she looked over at Brad, he nodded accordingly and wrote on his pad. "Media didn't report this. BUSTED!"

She had him - either he helped Ansem plan the robbery, or he had been in contact with him after the fact. The only question was - how was she going to get the information out of him?

--

After having a sandwich, Vanessa returned to her room and sat back down. A records search on Ansem should be simple enough, especially after striking out with the stock sites.

Turning back to her computer, she made a check of what city records she could find online, but nothing much stood out: There were tax records for a small compact car years old by the description and a parcel of land out near the harbor, but not much else.

Vanessa then noticed something interesting - the records listed an email address for Ansem. She had remembered that Bayport had allowed it as an opt-out process to automate their tax payments, with the opt-out option for people that valued the privacy of their email address. On a whim, she typed the email address into a search engine, curious of what she would find.

Only four hits came up on the results page, and three of them pointed to one of the many social networking sites on the web. Curious, but according to the small summary blurb under those three search results, it had indicated that his personal page on that site had been updated as of last night.

She was getting a nervous feeling as she clicked on the link. The site's logo came up quickly, and then a small box on the middle of her screen that proudly proclaimed 'User's site friendslocked. User established passwords for his friends to view site. Please enter password to proceed.'"

Vanessa sat back in her chair and rubbed her face in her hands to wake herself up. So here was proof that he was still out there. By all rights she should call Chief Collig right now so that the FBI could get a warrant for the site's server information, but if she just so happened to guess his password, it would be a total accidental discovery-

Her mind made up, she sat up in her chair and thought about what she knew about Ansem, which had come from the news reports she had watched while waiting in the hospital.

After trying words like stockbroker, money, and his brother's name, she started feeling a bit frustrated. Passwords were usually established after something meaningful, something easy to remember and easy to recall.

That was when she had remembered something that Joe mentioned to her, from the time he had just come back from tracking down Ansem to the apartment complex outside town.

_-You should have seen his eyes, Van. He looked at Frank and then me. It was the look of a man hell bound on revenge.- _

It couldn't have been that simple, could it? And yet-

With some reluctance she typed in 'Hardy' and pressed enter.

The site reacted with an affirmative tone, and then promptly came onto the screen. There was one main picture on the page and the site of it nearly made her tumble out of her chair.

In the picture Frank Hardy sat in a chair, bound and gagged. In his lap had been propped up a copy of yesterday's paper, and behind him stood Ansem, pointing a gun at Frank's head. Vanessa felt the bile rise in her throat, the sandwich she had eaten threatening to come back up.

There was a simple line of text below the picture that read 'Click here on how you can buy a famous boy detective.'

Her eyes widened when she read that line. This man was insane, had to be. Vanessa took a breath to steady herself, and then hovered her mouse over the text. The text changed color, indicating a clickable link.

She steeled herself for Callie's sake, and clicked on the text.

--

_This part got a little lengthy, and I thought this would be a good point to leave off for the moment. _

_Next chapter: Ezra and Fenton search, Callie and Lenny continue their chat, and Frank goes for a ride. _


	8. Chapter 8

Vanessa waited with baited anticipation as she clicked on the link and waited for the text to load.

Surprisingly enough, the message was brief, showing a time of the sale, and only provided an email address. There was a subsequent instruction that a location for the auction would be provided once proof of assets was verified.

The email address in itself was for a web based email service. Anyone could have put their name on the account. There would be no new information that way.

Ok, now she needed to get this information to someone.

Vanessa took screenshots of the picture and the subsequent message. After making two copies of each on her printer, Vanessa grabbed for her laptop computer she had stashed in a leather carry case nearby and ran out of her house.

--

Frank Hardy stood at the sink in the bathroom inside Richard's house. He was safe for the moment, which was good, but the humiliation that Ansem had put him through was more than mollifying to say the least.

Strangely enough, it wasn't the so-called sale that was really bothering him. Considering that he knew that Ansem had supposedly made off with a half a million dollars, the man's apparent need for money shocked him.

What could have happened to change Ansem's fortune like that?

So many questions. He counted his blessings at least that Ansem didn't want Frank messed up before the sale.

Richard's house had what would be considered one and a half bathrooms, and he chose to barricade Frank in the smaller of the two after they took that picture for the web page. An hour after that the door opened and Ansem quickly shoved two fast food bags in and closed the door back just as quickly.

For the next few hours he sat on the sink counter, ate the impromptu meal and listened intently as Ansem kept the TV on, and throughout the night there had been various news updates about Ansem's escape, plus various news bites about the robbery. His spirits were lifted when he heard that his brother was expected to quickly recover from the concussion he had sustained in the robbery. That was one worry off of his mind. The next order of business was, how could he let someone know where he was? Joe might not get a chance to see that photo, and he hoped to give a more specific clue to someone - if there was one to give.

The TV was turned off. Frank froze at the unexpected silence - something was definitely up. Straining to hear any noise, he was caught off guard by Ansem's voice somewhat near the bathroom door. The man was apparently on the phone.

"Yeah, Jeff? Ansem. Is the harbor warehouse ready? Ah good. Any responses to our ad for the Hardy kid? Wow - that Assassin organization really wants this kid. You tell them no pre-bids, no exceptions. We will give anyone a fair chance to get the Hardy kid. Damn, even if his father were to show up, as long as I get the cash that we are wanting we will be fine."

Frank shook his head at the obvious implications, and suddenly he felt a little more anxious about the sale.

He figured that he might be able to find a way to escape, but Assassins? They would probably shoot him on sight as soon as Ansem displayed him to them.

Ansem apparently was trying to mollify Jeff, because he continued. "Jeff, calm down already. Lenny is still in prison, he can't touch either of us. You are more than welcome to tag along when I make my way to the Caribbean islands. Which one? That can wait until I get there. In the meanwhile, meet me at the harbor warehouse at 10pm tonight. I'll move the kid about 8pm and that'll give a chance for our clients to get there. Bye and Jeff? I entrusted you with my money because you said you could double it. If you mess up again, you will get the same thing that my brother got."

Silence again. Frank could hear Ansem shuffling off to another room. Frank checked his watch - it was just nearing noon. Just about eight hours until Ansem tried to spring his crazy plan. He silently went to the bathroom door and tried it again. Like when he tried before, the door gave slightly, but then came across an obstruction. The door was still barricaded solid.

So his options were simple: either he could try and make an escape, and a noisy one at that, or play this out, find out who Jeff is and play this out until tonight, and maybe have a better opportunity to escape. It had to be Bayport harbor Ansem was talking about. Nothing else would make much sense.

Frank shook his head. Considering what he knew, his chances were fifty-fifty either way. That web photo if Joe would get a chance to see it was one hope he had, but if Frank was moved before help could come- he couldn't dwell, what Frank needed was a good backup plan.

While he was brainstorming, his gaze came across a half used tube of toothpaste in a basket on the far corner of the sink counter, and had the beginning of an idea. Maybe getting the message out wouldn't be so hard after all.

--

_12:00PM, Bayport Herald_

Callie Shaw knew that Lenny was trying to string her along. He basically admitted that he knew the amount of money that Ansem robbed from the bank, but her subsequent questions were met with abusive rebukes and insults about her character. This was getting old fast, and she had about enough.

She stood up, and then leaned over the speakerphone for full effect. "All right Lenny, you know what? I'm done with you. I offered you a way to save yourself, but I guess that's out the window now. This conversation will be documented and sent straight to the police. You have made a big mistake - the media has not aired nor published the amount of money taken during that robbery, and you know what? That means you are hiding something from me."

She was thinking of Frank now as she paced the length of the room once. "So if you want to rot in prison for the rest of your life, that's fine. Only know that the prosecutor's office will get a notification that you knew about this robbery. Maybe it is not too late to have you tried as an accessory."

Callie dropped back into her chair and remained silent for the next few moments. Brad looked at her in disbelief before writing on his legal pad. "He doesn't like people who bluff."

She knew that she was taking a big risk in bluffing like that. One uttered phrase was her only proof that he even knew, but Callie didn't know what else to do.

For about two more minutes, nothing happened, and then finally Lenny came back on the line. "Jeff Lindler. He told me about the 500k coming to the bank, I let Ansem know since he hit that stock trouble, and he took advantage. Judging by what Jeff has told me though, the twirt was stupid. Between a bribe to the prison shrink and another covert investment that didn't pan out, Ansem is broke again. Don't ask me anything else, because I do not know what anyone else is planning after that. Now take that information girlie, and get off this line. Even if you have this line recorded, I will swear up and down I was coerced. As for Jeff? He screwed me over on another business deal. I do not care what you guys do with him. Ta-ta."

A harsh click followed by a dial tone greeted her ears.

Brad had jumped up from his seat and went over to Callie. "Ace, I wont lie, I thought you may have blown it somehow, but Lenny was bothered enough to rise to the bait. Now we have a name."

Callie sat there somewhat stunned. "But what about Lenny?"

Brad laughed harshly. "What about him? In this game Ace, there are a few people that are willing to play and those that are willing to be pawns. Lenny has been a player all of this time. When you threatened to change his status to a mere pawn, he rose to the bait, simple as that." The older reporter checked his watch. "OK, we have a name. Considering that Frank's life is riding on this, don't you think we should get to researching pronto?"

_12:00 PM, Ponderosa Commons Apartment Complex_

"Here we are."

Ezra Collig pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex and killed the engine. He had driven his personal car since they were out of the Bayport area, and he looked to Fenton Hardy. "Are you ready?"

He looked at his friend with a questioning glance. Ever since they left the hospitial, Ezra couldn't shake the feeling that Fenton was falling apart. Hearing how they took down Ansem in the first place probably didn't help that much, but the dark circles under his eyes foretold more than one night with no sleep.

Fenton turned to him, a weak smile on his face. "I see that worried look you have on your face, my friend. Don't worry. I just want to find my son and settle this."

Ezra got out of the car. "Let's go then."

Together they stepped onto the property. A big wooden sign proclaiming "Ponderosa Commons" was staked out in the apartment complexes only flower bed, and judging by the flaking paint job, hadn't seen any proper maintenance in many a year.

The buildings themselves were also a testament to the run down state of the entire place. There were only four of them, each two stories. Like the sign, the paint on the wooden siding of each building flaked and as the two men managed to find the office on the first floor of the first building, they stepped in a multitude of paint chips.

The door to the office was just as worn as the other woodwork in the area. Fenton was half afraid that the door would fall down if he knocked on it, so when he spotted the buzzer, he pressed on it eagerly.

Moments later, the door opened a few inches to reveal a pair of eyes. The inside was dark, so neither man could tell who was looking out at them.

Ezra decided to break the ice. Stepping forward, he spoke quickly. "My name is Ezra Collig, and this is Fenton Hardy."

As soon as he introduced them, the door closed. Moments later, the door opened wide, revealing a small woman, who seemed to only less than four feet tall. Her blonde hair was teased into an old style beehive type of style, but the old tattered pink track suit totally ruined whatever effect she was trying to accomplish.

Her voice spoke of years of smoking cigarettes. "I'm no fool. I've been watching the news, and I was on hand for that scene months back when that idiot was captured here. Put a kibosh on rentals, that's what it did, but I still get enough gawkers and tourists coming by that make me rethink putting up a no trespassing sign."

Ezra looked around in disbelief. _People were renting from this place?_ He shook off the thought and asked.

"When was the last time you have seen Ansem?"

A smoky laugh emanated from the woman. "Honey, that jerk hasn't been back since the authorities hauled him away. I had his apartment cleaned soon afterwards and his stuff thrown out."

Ezra's heart sank. There went any possible clues that they could have gained. He thanked the woman and motioned for his friend to follow him when Fenton's cell phone chimed quietly from his pocket. He grabbed it and checked the ID. "It's Vanessa. I better take this."

Ezra looked around the grounds as Fenton talked to Vanessa on his cell phone. He stopped cold though when Fenton ran back over to him. "Vanessa is going to meet us back at Joe's hospital room. She's found Ansem on one of those social websites and he's put up a picture of Frank and-"

Fenton broke off the sentence. Ezra wasn't sure what was wrong. "What is it?"

"Ansem wants to sell Frank off to the highest bidder."

_1 PM Richard Jamison's house -_

Frank leaned against the sink, and forced himself to focus on his breathing.

Moments later, he heard a rustle at the bathroom door as if the barricade was being removed. Ansem ducked in with a gun in one hand and a length of rope in the other. "It is auction time, Hardy boy."

Frank was confused. "But I thought you told Jeff 8pm? We are going to Bayport Harbor aren't we?"

Ansem grinned. "Nosy brat. Who said it had to be Bayport Harbor? With the drive time and the prep time it'll truly be auction time before you know it. Now move!"

--

_No chapter previews this time, I'm still finalizing the timeline for the final events. Thanks for the reviews guys, I have been working on this in-between my Nanowrimo project for another fandom, so I was hoping the time gaps between me posting chapters wouldn't be too bad to suffer through. Hey, at least I let you guys know how Frank was faring, and I can at least tell you that things are coming to a head - I only foresee three more chapters. See you next time. ;) flees_


	9. Chapter 9

_4 PM Bayport General Hospital-_

Joe Hardy sulked in his hospital bed.

By some minor miracle, Joe's head had stopped throbbing, which seemed to be a good sign, and after another scan, his doctor had discontinued the pain medication that he had been on, and expressed his surprise at his patient doing so well.

According to the doctor's diagnosis, Joe would have a few dull aches and some minor motor and short term memory problems, but there would be no reason for him not to go home tomorrow and continue the recovery process from there. As far as sprains went, the ligaments in Joe's left leg were definitely strained, but the doctor had told him the plan was to bind up his leg in bandages to where he could use crutches to get around, with follow-up appointments from a physical therapist.

To celebrate, his mother had decided to go get some pizza and bring it in for the both of them. When Joe had asked where his father was, his mom didn't answer, and it was then that Joe realized that his dad was out looking for Frank. He couldn't help but feel a slight bit of guilt for his brother's current situation. If he hadn't have chosen to go to the jewelry store that day, none of this would have happened.

_Then Mr. Moneyhan or someone else might have gotten_ hurt, a little voice in the back of his head piped up in reply. Even with this reasoning, Joe found little comfort from it.

The thing he hated the most though was the inaction. Joe wanted desperately to be out there with dad, searching high and low for his brother. He sent a silent prayer up to the heavens. _Frank, wherever you are, give 'em hell. I'll find you somehow and that is a promise._

The door opened and Joe was beginning to wonder why his mom was back so early, until he saw Vanessa come through the door, carrying her laptop case. "Vanessa, you are a pretty sight for sore eyes."

Joe saw that she was smiling, and yet he noticed the stress on her face. "Okay, this isn't a social visit, I can see it in your eyes. What's going on?"

He watched as she put down her laptop case and leaned over to give him a hug and a kiss.

"It's good to see you too," Vanessa replied dryly, "Your skills haven't diminished by those cracks on your head I see."

Joe self consciously touched one of the bandages on his head and grinned. "It'll mess up my haircut for a while, but the stitches should come out in a week or so. Now stop distracting me. You found out something about Frank didn't you?"

Again she didn't answer him, and it began to worry Joe. Vanessa took a seat in the chair by his bed and fished around into her laptop case until she brought out a series of printouts. "I made use of my time by trying to search for any information on Ansem. I managed to track down an email address for him, and it led me to – er, these images."

Joe looked at her as she reluctantly handed over a few sheets of paper. As he focused on each of them, his anger boiled over. He read about the invitation to the auction and then he got to the picture that showed his brother tied up with Ansem holding a gun to his head. Time slowed down, and he found that he could barely speak.

"Frank-"

--

Vanessa watched with a breaking heart as Joe started to tremble. She knew it would be hard for him to see his brother like this, but if anyone knew anything about this case, Joe would be the first one to know.

Leaning over, she carefully caressed his cheek, trying to calm him down. "Joe, I'm so sorry I presented it like this, but I figured that we didn't have much choice. Time is of the essence if that auction notice is to be believed. Now focus: does anything in that picture look familiar?"

She watched as Joe looked at the photo intently. For the next few minutes, he squinted, turned the paper around in all directions until he finally exclaimed. "It's Richard Jamison's house!"

_Ansem's dead brother?_

Joe handed her the printout with the photo on it and explained. "Look behind where they are sitting. It's not clear in this picture, but there is a painting on that wall over there. I'd know those colors and that basic design anywhere. I saw that painting when we first visited Richard's house."

Vanessa made a grab for the phone on the nearby table. "We need to get this information to your father right away."

She quickly punched in the numbers for Mr. Hardy's cell phone and waited. When Vanessa heard him answer, she started to hand off the phone to Joe, but found that he was still distracted by the photo that she had given him. Vanessa put the phone back to her ear. "Hello, Mr. Hardy? Yes, I am in Joe's hospital room right now. I went ahead and showed him the evidence I told you about. Well, time was short and-Mr. Hardy, he knows where the photo was taken!"

Mr. Hardy initially sounded very angry, something that Vanessa wasn't expecting. Her admission had finally quieted him down enough to where she was able to tell about the painting and Richard's house. After a promise to stay put and keep an eye on Joe, she hung up the phone. "Your dad and Chief Collig are going to head over there now."

Joe smiled weakly as he handed her the printouts. "If anyone can give a direction to where he is, it'll be Frank. Ansem couldn't hold an auction there, it is way too risky. He would want to go to a secondary location. I just wish I knew where."

Vanessa grabbed for one of his hands and clenched it tightly. "I'm just sorry that I couldn't have been more help."

--

Joe shook his head and looked into his girlfriend's eyes, all the while trying to convey a calm that he didn't truly feel. "Don't talk like that, Van. We know a lot more about Ansem's plans thanks to you. Dad will toss that place from top to bottom, and he will find something, I am sure of it."

Sighing, Vanessa looked at him hopefully. "I hope you are right. Callie also was doing some research into your 'old friend' Lenny the Shark." At Joe's exasperated groan she continued. "She has a contact at the Bayport Herald that had interviewed him and-"

The shrill ring of the telephone Vanessa just used interrupted her explanation. She leaned back towards the phone. "I better get this. I gave Callie your room number just in case she found anything of interest."

Joe listened as she picked up the phone and spoke quickly. "Callie? What did you find out? Jeff Lindler? What? Okay, good job. Joe says hello by the way. You better turn in what you have. Meet me at the hospital as soon as you can. Bye."

Hanging up the phone, she quickly grabbed for her laptop bag. "Quick, is there a data port in this room?"

Joe hitched a thumb at the socket above his head. "I thought I saw a port up there when I was staring at the ceiling."

He watched as Vanessa frantically grabbed for her laptop along with a cable out of her case. She seemed lost in thought, but at least there was a smile on her face this time. "Care to clue me in, or do I have to guess?"

Vanessa pulled the rolling table over his bed over to set her laptop on, and then proceeded to hook up her data cable. "Callie came through. She gave me a name of someone that helped Ansem out by feeding him information to help pull off that bank robbery. His name is Jeff Lindler, and according to the information she got from the newspaper's archives, Lindler has a rap sheet a mile long and was last seen with Ansem."

He did not understand the cause of her excitement. "So we know he has an accomplice, so what?"

She turned on the laptop and waited for the boot up sequence. "It's where they were last seen at. Callie said that some fisherman had made the report and it stated that he noticed them at Bayport Harbor. I know Ansem owns some land out there because I found it in my records search earlier!"

Recognition dawned on Joe, and he grinned. "Then by all means, hit the net and let's check out the address of that land!"

Vanessa typed in a few commands and with some relief found that she was able to get to the internet without much interference. Going back to the records pages that she had accessed earlier, she quickly found Ansem's records again and found the address she was looking for. "It looks like it's on a side road right up against the harbor itself. I better call your dad back."

Joe waited with breathless anticipation as she picked the phone back up and dialed. Moments later, she hung up the phone in disappointment. "Your dad is out of range, I couldn't even get his voice mail. We'll have to try again in a few minutes."

Disappointment coursed through Joe until a crazy plan started to form in his mind. His instincts screamed that Vanessa had solid information. If he could bluff Ansem long enough for him to bring out Frank, maybe they could make their escape before anything bad went down. The only problem was, he was in no shape to drive himself, and the only other one that might be willing would probably be hard to convince. "I've gotta get to that auction. Please, Vanessa, help me get out of here."

--

Vanessa couldn't believe what she was hearing. Joe was actually suggesting that she help him sneak out of the hospital? "Joe, are you crazy? We should wait and try your dad again. It couldn't be that far to the Harbor from Richard's house."

Joe looked at her hard and growled. He didn't want to do this, but if he wanted to save Frank, he would need to hustle, and he really could use her help. "Richard's house is on the opposite end of town. By the time they get there and get any clue Frank might have left, the sale will already be underway. Either you help me, Van, or I will sneak out of here myself. What will it be?"

_5:00pm Bayport General Hospital –_

Laura Hardy carefully edged her way into her son's room, balancing the pizza box in one hand. "Joe, I am back. I'm sorry I took so long with the pizza and-"

She stopped as she realized something wasn't right. The bed containing her son was empty. Laura quickly strode forward into the room, placing the pizza box on the bed and looked around wildly. If Joe was due for more tests, she would have known it and – that was when she saw the note placed carefully on the pillow.

After she quickly read over the note, Laura's shaky hands grabbed for the phone and dialed a number she knew by heart by this point. It took two rings, but when her husband came on the line, she couldn't contain her emotion.

"Fenton, it's Joe. He's left the hospital with Vanessa's help and now he's going after that monster Ansem alone!"

--

_Ouch, emotional blackmail can get results. Next chapter: Joe makes his plans and his father plays a desperate game of catch-up to find both of his sons. _


	10. Chapter 10

_6:30pm Hardy Residence-_

The Hardy house was quiet as Vanessa helped Joe into the living room and into a seat.

Dropping her laptop bag into a nearby chair, she stood over him. "Where are your first aid supplies?"

Joe was focusing on avoiding the throbbing pain that his leg was producing, but he eventually pointed upstairs. "Middle room on the left is a bathroom. Mom keeps the supplies up there."

He cringed as he noticed Vanessa scowl at him. "Don't move. I'll be back down in a few minutes with a change of clothes and first aid, and for heavens sakes, will you call your dad?"

Joe breathed a thankful sigh of relief as Vanessa turned and headed for the stairs, not waiting for his answer. It had taken some doing to convince her that he intended to leave the hospital on his own for Vanessa to go out and bring in a wheelchair to his room. After wrapping himself up in a blanket and double talking the guards, she wheeled Joe off of the hospital floor and into a nearby elevator, which had taken them to the ground floor without further incident.

The ride over to his house had been made in tense silence, and he wondered at first if he had made a big mistake.

--

Chief Collig and Fenton Hardy pulled up outside of Richard Jamison's house. The sun had already set, and the place was already bathed in darkness.

"You do realize that they are probably gone from here," Chief Collig admonished. Despite his words, the police chief had turned off the car and drawn his firearm.

Fenton was lost in thought and in a myriad of emotions. On their way there, his wife had called to tell him that Joe had left the hospital to follow a lead. Since then, he had tried more than once to reach Joe through his cell phone, only for it to go straight to voice mail. "If I know Frank, he would have left a clue," he replied absently, "I just wish my sons were not so headstrong sometimes."

"Face it, Fenton," Chief Collig stated. "Your boys take after you, plain and simple, despite how it may scare you to death."

Fenton Hardy nodded grimly. "It does, my friend, more than you know in fact. Okay, let's get in there and check things out."

They got out of the car and quickly approached the house. Ezra entered first with his gun drawn. Fenton quickly followed in behind him. For the next few minutes, they stuck close together checking each room in the house until they determined that no one was in the house.

--

Vanessa returned downstairs to Joe, with her hands overflowing with bandages and a change of clothes. "Your mom must anticipate your bouts of stubbornness. I found enough bandages to cover a mummy and then some."

Joe put up his hands in protest. "Hey, those aren't all for me. When all of this is over, you should ask Frank about the time we tried doing a stakeout in a tree, and then you will see what those bandages are truly for."

She watched as Joe carefully shrugged out of the blanket that had been hiding the fact that he was dressed in his hospital gown still. He thought for a moment before looking at her apologetically. "Turn around, will ya? This is hard enough as is."

Vanessa turned away from him, smiling at his apparent embarrassment. Despite the situation, she couldn't help but tease him. "Even a tough guy like you still gets embarrassed, how cute."

She was rewarded with a groan from Joe. Vanessa decided to turn around but Joe stopped her quickly. "I'm not done yet."

--

After Ezra and Fenton had checked Richard Jamison's house and declared that it was all clear, they set to the task of looking for signs that anyone had been there.

After about ten minutes of searching, Fenton made his way to the bathroom on the first floor. It was a small affair with only a toilet and sink, but it was the items that he had found in the floor that excited him the most. "Chief!"

Chief Collig appeared at the door to the bathroom moments later. "What did you find?"

Fenton leaned down and pointed to a discarded fast food bag and a length of rope. "Someone's been in here recently."

"That may be, Fenton, but that doesn't get us any closer to where Frank and Ansem may be now," Chief Collig protested.

Fenton stood up and looked around. Everything else seemed to be unremarkable, which didn't sit well with him. If Frank were in here long enough, he would have given them some sort of message.

Chief Collig stepped in and made a move to lift the top off of the tank of the toilet to look inside.

Fenton looked at him in some surprise when he started grinning from ear to ear. "What did you find?"

As a reply, Chief Collig presented him with the lid from the tank, turned upwards. "Your son is quite the resourceful one."

In crude lettering made by what looked like toothpaste, the two men could make out the words _harbor_ and _warehouse_.

--

Ten minutes later, Vanessa turned around to find that Joe had managed to dress himself in a loose black t-shirt and black jogging pants, but the exertion was apparent on his face. A fine sheen of sweat covered his brow, and more than once Joe seemed unsteady.

She watched him nervously as he carefully worked on his leg, using the bandages to wrap around and support his left leg. "I don't like this."

Joe's gaze swung over to her. That was the twentieth time in as many hours that she had said that, most of them done on the way there. Torn between irritation and worry, he brought up a hand and caressed her cheek. "I know this guy, Vanessa. He will go even crazier if the police or law enforcement follow him. That's why Frank and I went undercover in the first place to get this guy. I can't rest until I know Frank is safe, and then we will call in the good guys."

He then noticed that Vanessa's gaze traveled to the cell phone sitting on top of the table that was near him. He had taken it out of his pocket to check the messages. Joe wasn't about to tell her that there were ten, most of which were from his father. "Dad needs time to check out Richard's house. There might be something important there."

Vanessa shook her head in frustration. "I didn't know you could be so stubborn. You are lucky that I love you, Joe Hardy, else wise I would have called your father long before this."

Sighing, Joe thought for a moment, and then reached over to grab the cell phone. At her quizzical expression, he retorted. "Don't think I am giving in. I just want to check on them."

He quickly cycled through his speed dial, choosing the one number he knew by heart.

--

Chief Collig wanted to get one of his people on the search for the warehouse quickly, so he and Fenton had quickly left the house to get back to their car when Fenton heard the cell phone in his pocket.

Eyes wide, he grabbed it out of his jacket and checked the caller id. _Joe._

Flipping the phone open, it took him more than a moment to form a coherent thought. Relief filled emotion reverberated through his voice. "Joe am I ever relieved to hear from you, but I swear if you ever scare your mother like that again-"

He was cut off by Joe's apologetic words. "Dad, I'm sorry, but I am not going to sit back and do nothing while Ansem has Frank. I just wanted to check in with you and see if you or Chief Collig found anything at Richard's house."

Fenton paused, debating whether to tell his son how much he knew before finally deciding on full disclosure. "I have a feeling you know more about this than we do. Frank left two words in the bathroom here: harbor and warehouse. Do you know what he means?"

He heard a sharp in take of breath from the other end of the line, and Fenton knew that he had his answer. "Joe-"

"Dad, Vanessa was doing a records search of Ansem when she uncovered a piece of land that he happens to own that is at Bayport Harbor. There is a warehouse on that land. I was going to go ahead and scope it out. We have to get out there before the sale starts at ten tonight if we want any chance of getting a drop on them."

Fenton counted to ten. He admired his sons' fierce loyalty as brothers, but dealing with their stubborn streaks proved to be too much at times. "Joe, please. Chief Collig told me what you boys had to get this guy in the first place. We don't even know where Frank is, and you are hurt. I don't want to lose you."

There was a moment of silence before Joe rattled off the address that he had alluded to earlier. "This guy won't wait for you to find him dad, that's why I have to get a head start. Don't worry, I'll be fine. Just get there as soon as you can with backup."

And with that, the connection with his son terminated. Fenton swore softly as he pocketed his cell phone and turned to his friend. "Ezra, I know where they are – or at the very least where they will be. Let's get to the station fast. We are going to need all of the help we can get."

--

_8pm – Richard Jamison's Car, Bayport Harbor_

Frank lay in the back floorboard of Richard Jamison's car, his hands bound behind him and his feet bound tightly.

Earlier that afternoon, he had offered no protest as Ansem forced him outside and into Richard's car under gunpoint. Ansem had then forced Frank to tie up his own feet, and when he was satisfied with the job, moved in to tie the teen's hands tightly behind his back and forced him to the back floorboard of the car.

While Ansem had gotten behind the drivers seat and started the car to wherever their destination was to be, Frank had stayed in a cramped position, all the while working on his bonds that he had used on his feet. He had figured that Ansem hadn't tied up too many people before, so he had deliberately left himself some slack in the ropes.

Opportunities had come twice when Ansem had stopped the car – Frank couldn't tell where they were either time. Both times Ansem had warned Frank that he was in an isolated area and that shouting wouldn't help him.

If that's the way he wanted to play his mind games, then fine. Frank chose to focus on the rope binding his feet. If he could get his legs free, then things would be different by the time they reached the warehouse, but even with the slack that he had left himself in the ropes, Frank had found it slow and tedious work.

On the final part of the drive, Frank noticed the daylight surrounding them starting to fade. He didn't have a good view of the rear windows from his vantage point, but judging by the fading daylight, time was running out. His suspicions were soon confirmed when he felt the car stop once again.

"Well, well, eight o'clock and all is well," Ansem gloated as he took the keys out of the ignition and turned to Frank. "You see, the early start was needed after all – just had to make sure a few special guests came to bid on you. I want top dollar for my prey after all."

Frank stared at him in icy silence. After all of the manipulation, he wasn't going to give the man the satisfaction of playing with his game.

Ansem scowled. "Spoilsport." He opened his car door and made a move to get out, but then stopped. "I have things to do in the warehouse to prepare. You won't go anywhere, right?"

Frank watched as the man sneered, then slammed the driver's shut. In the distance he could hear quick footsteps echo away from the car.

If there was a time to move, now was it. Frank checked his progress on the bonds at his feet and found that there was one last knot to work around. He would have to bend and flex like never before if he had any hope of getting his feet free.

He quickly set to work.

--

_Many apologies, a cold laid me and my muse up for a while. Hopefully this makes up for it, and if my pacing is not telling me bald faced lies – there's only one chapter left. :) See you next time._


	11. Chapter 11

"Here we are."

Vanessa had made the announcement as she turned her car into the small parking lot in front of the warehouse. Once Joe had tended to his leg and dressed in simple loose jogging clothes, he had urged her that the earlier they could get there, the better their chances of surprise would be.

It was nearly pitch dark when they had arrived. With it being the harbor area, the main bulk of the lights were used around the marina area. There were few businesses in the area, save for one or two seafood restaurants, and some bait and tackle shops, all of which were small, and were clustered around the marina area.

The address for Ansem's warehouse turned out to be a ramshackle building built along a rocky slope next to the water. Access to it was gained by a side road, and she had nearly missed it in the gloom until Joe had spotted a small sign pointing to what was offically declared as "Jamison's Shipping."

She shut off the engine and looked at the building looming in front of her. Vanessa had noticed that Where they had parked, there didn't seem to be any cars around. Still it was hard to see with only four light poles in the parking lot barely putting out enough light to cut through the gloom. "Are we the first ones here?"

"I doubt it," Joe replied. He shifted around in his seat, releasing the seat belt holding him in place. "It looks like the lot itself wraps around the building. If Ansem is true to form, he is already here planning everything out."

Vanessa shook her head. Joe was sounding downright paranoid, and it only served to worry her more. "I hope you have a plan."

He smiled. "Of course. I am going to recon the parking lot while you stay here and keep low and on the lookout for any cars. You still have your cell phone?"

She nodded. Joe then opened his door and gingerly got out. He paused only for a moment before ducking his head back inside the car. "Then call 911 if anything goes down and make sure you keep a low profile."

And with that simple warning, Joe ducked out of the car again and shut his car door.

Vanessa turned back to face forward and watched as Joe half-limped/half-jogged over to the main building. She had hoped he also took Callie's information into account. Since she had relayed information that Ansem had an accomplice, Vanessa felt even more uneasy about the whole situation. Sitting there wasn't helping much either.

Decision made, she grabbed her cell phone and stuck it in the pocket of her jeans, and then grabbed for a small flashlight she had kept in her glove compartment. Being around the Hardy boys long enough, she knew to be prepared for anything.

--

Joe Hardy slowed down as he approached the warehouse. That last thing that he needed would be to tip someone off that he was here. As he had gotten closer, Joe saw that the building was made out of panels of sheet metal riveted together over a series of metal beams. The building itself looked steady enough, but the overall size of it made him even doubt it two eighteen wheelers could fit inside side by side.

He looked for a doorway and not finding one on the side he was on, Joe moved carefully along the wall to the next corner.

Bingo. On this side, Joe spotted a set of double doors along with a window right on the opposite side of them. Keeping flat to the outside wall, he sidled towards the doors.

--

Frank Hardy continued to struggle, moving his feet in opposite directions to try and loosen the bonds he had put there. A fine sheen of sweat covered his face, and he wondered how long he had been at it. His wrists were behind him, so Frank was unable to find out what time it was.

THUMP!

A noise outside the car startled Frank, and he froze. Could Ansem have returned already?

Scratching noises came next, and Frank struggled to try and get into a sitting position like he had tried in the past few minutes. If someone was going to come after him, he wanted to see who it was.

"Frank?"

The voice was distinctly feminine and familiar. Seconds later, the car door closest to him opened, and Frank found himself staring into the face of Vanessa Bender. "Vanessa!"

Frank smiled as she set to work on his bonds, and was soon able to untie his feet. "Ahh, you don't know how good that feels. What are you doing here?"

"Joe and I followed your picture clue, along with a records search," Vanessa replied as she pulled him up into a sitting position.

Groaning, Frank knew the answer to his question, but he thought he would check. "Joe is with you isn't he?"

"Sort of," Vanessa hedged, and when Frank glared at her, she crumbled. "Okay, I helped him escape the hospital because he was worried about you and had a feeling that Ansem was going to leave early for the auction. He should be trying to case the warehouse now."

Frank swore, and then he struggled to push himself out of the car. Vanessa helped him leverage himself out of the car and onto his feet. All the while, he was muttering."He shouldn't be here. I swear once I make sure Joe is okay, I'll kill him myself. Please tell me my dad knows where we are at least?"

She nodded, and then motioned for him to turn around. "Chief Collig and your dad have this address and they should be here with some backup soon."

Frank looked around wildly and Vanessa worked on the bonds binding his wrists. "I've got to get in there."

It took precious moments but Vanessa soon had Frank's wrists free. He quickly massaged his wrists to get the blood flowing again, then he took off in a run towards the warehouse.

Vanessa looked at his retreating form in exasperation and wondered if their mother ever had days like this.

--

Joe successfully reached the double doors, and noted that they were of a sliding style. After checking through the window and not seeing anyone, he returned to the door and slowly slid it open. The door groaned and creaked, and Joe decided to only open it far enough to allow him to slip inside.

Once he was inside, Joe took a quick look around, and noticed at with the exception of a catwalk above and a few cast off wooden pallets in one corner, the warehouse was effectively deserted. Joe pondered his options for a moment before finally deciding to head back to Vanessa.

He turned to head back towards the opening in the door when Joe saw that someone had stepped through, holding a gun.

The man was tall and thin, and his brown hair was long and stringy. Considering the timing of it all, Joe hazarded a guess as to who it was. "Jeff Lindler, I assume?"

A silent nod, and then Jeff motioned with his gun. His voice was low and menacing. "Well now, Ansem told me to expect guests, but I didn't think I would see anyone this early. Hey wait a minute, I know you- Joe Hardy."

Joe nodded and did his best to get into a defensive stance. "Right in one. So where is Ansem? Did your partner run out on you?"

A gunshot echoed through the warehouse, and Joe flinched as it landed mere inches from where he was standing, then a voice that haunted his dreams. "I'm up here, Hardy boy. I thought that I had put you more out of commission than that. Well, if you know what's good for you, you will give yourself up to my partner there."

Joe shook his head. He knew full well that there would be no mercy if he gave up. Desperation paved the way for the makings of a plan in his mind. The key was to know how far he could tweak them both. "You know Jeff, when all of this is over he is going to kill you, right?"

Jeff's aim never wavered. "He wouldn't do that. I was the one that clued him into the score at the bank. I helped him out of the jams that he had been in. He needs me!"

That last comment sounded a little strained to Joe. The seed of doubt was planted, now he just had to cultivate it a little. He called out. "Ansem, why don't you remind your 'buddy' here what you did to your brother when he tried to help you out?"

Ansem's snarl reverberated throughout the warehouse. "That is a separate situation, and you know it!"

Joe smirked. If his life wasn't on the line, this would have almost been fun. "It's not me you have to convince, Ansem."

--

Outside the warehouse, Frank found the side of the warehouse where the window and the double doors were located. He carefully made his way to the window and looked inside.

He saw that Joe was standing there, talking to a man holding a gun. From his vantage point, he could hear indistinct voices, and realized that there was more than one man in there that Joe was talking to, even though he could not see where the other man was. _It has to be Ansem. It's too early for anyone else to have arrived._

Looking further along the wall, he realized that the main door was still open. If he kept low, maybe he could help take out the guy on the same level as his brother, and then get a quick read on where Ansem was.

Considering the near silence of the night around him, he had little choice. Vanessa had not said how far away help was, but Frank wasn't about to allow Ansem and his flunky to have another attempt to kill Joe.

He slowly crept forward, keeping low and out of full view of the window. A few inches, a foot, and then Frank was right behind the man. He caught sight of Joe from his vantage point and gave him a quick wink and a grin.

It was time to end this now.

--

Joe's heart leapt into his throat as he saw Frank inch up behind Jeff. Struggling to keep a straight face, he returned his gaze to Jeff. Frank was keeping low, and that had to mean that he had a plan. Joe just had to hope that he was still in tune with his brother's strategies. He started again. "Jeff, it is true, he doesn't care who he hurts. In fact, I could say with a fair amount of certainty that if you do not give up now, you will go down hard."

Jeff sneered. "And just how do you think you know that?"

"Oh, I think I had to learn that the hard way, in fact, now is the time for you to learn that as well. Now Frank!"

Joe sidestepped as he watched Frank leap forward and tackle Jeff, they went down in a tangle, and Joe leaned in just long enough to wrest the gun from Jeff's hand.

Gun shots rained down from above, and Joe flattened himself against the nearby wall. "Frank, look out!"

Frank had placed a well timed hook to the man's jaw when Joe shouted his warning. He quickly rolled to the side and flattened against the opposite wall as gunfire erupted around them.

"Frank, am I glad to see you!" Joe called out.

"Likewise," he called back, "Can you see where Ansem is?"

Joe shook his head. "He's somewhere on the catwalk above but I couldn't get a bead on him."

Frank looked above. There were metal ladders on either side of the catwalk, which meant Ansem's choice of escape was extremely limited. "Stay here and keep an eye on this guy and the door. I'm going to go see if I can flush out Ansem."

"Are you nuts?" Joe retorted. "Not to mention that he can probably hear every word we are saying, he is a dangerous man."

Frank shook his head in frustration. "Remind me to tell you about this moment when things are sane, then we will see who is truly nuts. Hold onto the gun, and I will be right back."

Before Joe could protest any further, Frank ran forward to the closest ladder and quickly scaled it. As he reached the top, he finally had a good view of the catwalk and watched with a sinking feeling as he spotted Ansem at the opposite ladder. "Ansem, stop!"

If the madman had heard him, he paid no heed, and continued scaling down the opposite ladder. Frank began the descent back down his ladder, and prayed that Joe was prepared for what was coming his way.

--

_Okay, so my planning fleshed out this scene a little more than I thought. Wrap up will be in next chapter for sure. Hope you have had a good holiday. :)_


	12. Chapter 12

Joe stayed against the wall with gun in hand and watched as his brother climb the ladder. In the distance, he could see a flurry of movement, and then someone climbing down the other ladder. _Ansem!_

In the meanwhile Jeff groaned and tried to stir, but Joe planted a foot on the man's chest and pointed the gun at him. "I suggest that you stay down if you don't want to get shot."

He couldn't see Jeff's face, but in the effort to see what Ansem was doing, Joe didn't notice Jeff's hand snaking around and grabbing for his left leg. Pain radiated through Joe and he nearly fell backwards, the gun skittering out of his hand on the floor.

Jeff took advantage of Joe's situation by rushing him and knocking him to the ground. Joe struggled, but realized that Jeff was pinning him down by putting most of his weight on Joe's legs. Through the haze of pain, he realized there was no way he could cover both Jeff and Ansem.

He was definitely in trouble.

-

Frank got to the ground quickly, yet was still seconds behind Ansem.

This time was going to be different. He wasn't about to let this guy get away with anything ever again. Frank took off in a run. He saw Ansem ahead of him, and the man still looked to be armed. There was little time to count the shots and Frank couldn't tell from that distance what type of gun it was, so he knew whatever move he made would be risky.

He increased his speed and focused his energy. When he closed within mere inches of the man, Frank sprang forward towards Ansem's legs in an effort to take the man down.

Frank's efforts were met with a satisfying groan as he managed to tip Ansem forward, and they both went down hard to the ground. The man had managed to hold on to his weapon, and Frank went for the gun hand, trying to get Ansem to give up his prize.

Ansem cursed under the effort. "I should have killed you when I had the chance."

"You can't get anything right, Ansem," Frank retorted, "you tried to kill my brother, but that didn't work out now, did it? You are going back to prison where you belong!"

With that, he tightened his grip on Ansem's gun hand, and began slamming it hard against the ground. Ansem howled and squirmed under Frank's grasp, but he wasn't about to let go.

It was then that Jeff's voice rang throughout the warehouse. "Hey, Hardy brat, want to see your brother die?"

Frank looked up long enough to see that Jeff had gained the upper advantage against Joe. He had Joe pinned down, with both hands around his neck. He could see that his brother was fighting back as best he could by pushing back against Jeff's shoulders, but the haze of pain on Joe's face told him that it was a losing battle.

Ansem's laughter nabbed at him. "Give it up Hardy, it is over."

Frank desperately tried to think of a new plan, but before he could come up with anything, a new voice rang throughout the warehouse. "FBI, HOLD IT!"

He had been busy trying to keep Ansem at bay, and didn't notice that the door to the warehouse was now wide open and multiple authorities had stormed into the area. Frank recognized a few members of the Bayport police force, but many others were wearing bulletproof vests emblazoned with the FBI logo.

Moments later, two agents had made their way over to Frank, and while they covered Ansem with their own firearms, he gratefully got up and dusted himself off. He had never been so happy to see help arrive in all of his life.

At that point, he rushed over to Joe, who at that point was now in a sitting position on the ground. More agents along with one of the police officers had taken Jeff away. Frank smiled. "Some birthday, so you were going to try and surprise me?"

Joe grimaced. "I think I will swear off of trying to give you any more surprises from now on. I'll be lucky if my ligaments in my leg will ever forgive me for the torture. Jeff sure tried to pull a number on me."

Frank smiled knowingly, "Considering what Vanessa confessed to, you probably are going to incur the wrath of mom and dad as well. Dare I ask what you were thinking of coming here in your condition?"

His brother cast a guilty glance to the ground. "C'mon Frank, we both know what Ansem is capable of. I couldn't leave you with him."

Frank shook his head in resignation. The point was moot anyhow, they were both safe, and at that point he was too tired to argue. "Thanks Joe. So, this present that you were going to get me-"

Joe smiled. "A pocket watch. I remembered how you eyed that one in London. If we are lucky and dad doesn't try and keep us under house arrest, maybe we can pick it up from Mr. Moneyhan's place tomorrow."

Frank laughed in spite of himself. It had been a harrowing time, but they both had come through it alive. When he had thought how desperately Ansem had tried to make his escape, it was a miracle that they were able to get the upper hand.

Offering a hand to Joe, Frank managed to get his brother upright. With some effort, he guided Joe outside and into an awaiting ambulance.

--

_It has been a long ride, and both brothers survived. :) I would like to thank my reviewers who have made me welcome here and offered some good feedback. This has been an interesting ride being my first Hardy Boys fanfic and all, and if another idea crosses my path, I will be back. Till then, I shall read my fill of the other fics here. If you stayed for the ride, I hope you enjoyed it. _

_Till later, _

_Time Guardian _


End file.
